Winds of Change
by Mirrored In My Mind
Summary: -Complete!- Original character, told from his point of view. Getting superpowers? Not as fun as the comics make it seem. I'm living proof. Also, becoming a superhero? Involves getting up waaay earlier than necessary.
1. Oh, Fun

**A/N: **Here's the classic, yet highly overused, 'OC in the X-Men universe' plot. Thought I'd give it a shot. Review: help me keep Loki from becoming a Stu! I love your input. Rated the way it is for his mouth. I don't own X-Men: Evolution. Don't sue. All I own is Loki. So, dear readers, read on. Last note: I don't have anything against Michigan, so don't take any offense.

* * *

Fate's a bitch. Don't let anyone tell you any different. It's slowly but surely become my motto these past few years.

"This is stupid," I whispered to my friend. Resisting the urge to scratch the incredibly itchy black face paint off, I flicked my eyes back and forth anxiously.

Spencer shrugged. "I'm failing this class," he hissed back. "Failing this exam means being held back. You don't want your buddy, your first friend, to get held behind with all those stupid sophomores, now would you? Even if it is summer school?" His dark brown eyes bored into my own. Reluctantly, I shook my head.

I unfolded the paperclip and the pliers, setting to work on my Pre-Calculus teacher's desk. Mr. Ulsted. He was a goof, really, but his tests were absolute murder. I myself had an A-, but Spencer, as he had already put it so eloquently, was at a glorious 39 percent. AKA, failing miserably. I took the class to give him company. He took the class to pass the one he failed during the school year.

Biting my scabbed lip, I wiggled the metal around until a solid click was heard. "We're in," I said. Spencer greedily leaped in front of me, pawing through the papers stashed in the messy files. I glanced at my watch: we were about three minutes behind schedule. "Hurry up. Ulsted's going to be here any minute!" I urged. Actually, I didn't know when he'd be here, so we wanted to be out by five or (at the latest) ten after.

He nodded, brushing a lock of hastily dyed black hair out of his face. Suddenly he stiffened, eyes darting rapidly around the empty room. Paranoia settled in. I sighed. "Forget this, man," he said. "I'm outta here."

"Spence!" I snapped, belatedly remembering to grab the answer sheets from the drawer. Big mistake number one. I shoved his shoulder and he tripped over the garbage can. Big mistake number two. His groans filled the room with echoes which I'm sure travelled all around our three story school.

Finally, I helped him back up just in time for Ulsted himself to stalk in the room, his normally cheerful face etched into hard lines of anger. "What," he said in a deadly low voice, "Is going on here? Loki? Spencer?"

I winced, and Spencer fake-sobbed and cried out, "He forced me into it, Mr. Ulsted! He was going to sell the answers to me but I refused and he threatened me!" I turned to him, shocked.

Blatant betrayal. By my 'buddy' and 'first friend'. God, what luck.

I could clearly see Mr. Ulsted wasn't believing a word. But I knew that once this hit the student body, my rep would be trashed. Permanently. The fact that it was Spencer's word against mine didn't help. He was the son of the Superintendent. I was the son of a government secretary.

I was screwed. Gah! What a jerk. After being relocated to this stupid state of Michigan, he was the first person to be anything resembling kind to me. And now, here he was, ratting me out for something I didn't even do.

Fate's a bitch, I tell you. She's got it out for me.

Personally, I was surprised Ulsted was even awake. It was 6:15 in the morning, and we had only gotten in after Spence had nicked the keys from good ol' Papa Evans. Ugh. The man was a nice guy, really, but his son had him wrapped around his little finger. Honestly! Who else spoils their kid with a new car every other year? He'd only gotten his license last year and he'd been stacking since he was fourteen!

As you can tell, I'm a little bitter right now.

Moving on. Ulsted had taken us (after safely removing the answers) to the office, rang up our parents, and brought 'em down to the school. My father was not happy.

Not one damn bit.

"What is the meaning of this?" he thundered. "I am called when I wake up to find you skipping practice again to steal exam answers? What is wrong with you, Loki?! I thought we-I taught you better than this!"

He's pretty bitter too. Mom divorced him when I was six, running of with some billionaire playboy and leaving Dad to scrape the bills. Then he got promoted and now he's being payed decently well, so everything's good now. You know, 'cept for the whole 'I raised my son alone but still credit you' thing he had going on.

So basically my life was over. Sixteen, with nothing left to live for. I hung my head, ignoring the ground-breaking lecture my father was giving me. "...only reinforces my idea of moving!" At that, my head snapped up and my jaw dropped. I bet flies were making love in my mouth. Truthfully, I couldn't care less.

"We're moving?" I shouted, leaping to my feet. The pseudo-comfy chair I had been burrowing in flew to the floor. I was too...well, too pissed off to care. "You can't do that to me! For God's sake, Dad, we've moved three times already! Let me stay here!"

His eyes got all squinchy and I knew he was going to be stubborn about it. I hated when he got like that! He was like a stupid mule: once he made up his mind, there was no going back.

Mr. Evans was giving me a hateful glare. After he had stalked away to grill Spence, he had stalked right back in to suspend/expell/exorcise me. I rolled my eyes and I swear he started leaking smoke from his ears.

Well, to make a long story short, he basically told me to get the hell outta dodge. They don't expel people (that would go on their _permanent record_, after all), just politely tell them to go away. So, I went home to laze away the day...so I thought.

Nope. Fate, again knocking at my door.

I got to be the one-man packing squad. 'Punishment' was what it was called. No. It was freaking torture!

When you own as much junk as we do, then you'll understand. Especially when your dad tries to 'help'.

"Make sure you wrap that tight, it's sentimental!"

"No, that doesn't go there!"

"Gah, Loki, give it a rest, and pack the silverware instead!"

Slave driver. I mean it. "Jerk," I mumbled, handing the hired help (so now they come...) a box of china plates to put away in the van. The old man snorted and tossed it in, and I winced as a faint tinkle reached my ears. "Gentle!" In response, he ruffled his walrus-moustache and ignored me.

And with that, within the week, we were off, driving to New York of all places, to some little hick town called Bayville. I slunk down farther in my seat as the buildings flashed by. Cutesy little general stores and such. Blah. What I wouldn't give to be stuck back with those stupid trolls.

We passed a creepy-looking mansion..."Xavier's, huh? Probably a school full of genius recluses." I flicked a spare dust fleck off my shirt, watching it bounce out the open window. Finally we pulled up into the driveway of another cutesy little town house after a solid eleven hours of driving on my dad's part.

It was puke green. Not even joking. "Why?" I mouthed to the sky, looking completely nonplussed. I rubbed my eyes; they itch like mad when I don't get enough sleep. Ugh.

So then, of course, I had to unpack everything I had just packed, try and instruct the moving people not to break anything else, and keep my dad complacent. Most of it was going well. Until my dad made me go to the school to register and all that junk.

Walking through those hallways was horrible. All the teachers where there (and cranky, too; they don't like being there during the summer, I'll bet) and giving me the evil eye. I subtley shifted closer to my dad, who was barking orders into his cell while trying-at the same time-to find the principal's office. After studiously walking around in circles for fifteen minutes, he tugged me into a room where a frazzled looking woman was typing at a computer. My dad, ever the impatient parent, pushed me forward and I said politely, "Can I have the registration papers, please?"

She popped her gum loudly and drawled, "Name?"

"Loki Hydimen."

A sudden burst of papers in my face was her response and when I had them in some semblance of order, I nicked a pen and started filling them out. After a slightly humorous round of charades with my dad to get all the necessary info, I handed them back to the rude woman, along with the transfer information I had brought from my last school. With one hand she filed them, handed me a schedule and locker number, and shooed us out of her little space.

"Rude little-"

"I wouldn't finish that if I were you," Dad interrupted. I grinned falsely and he went back to talking.

I don't even know why we moved! Because I was a troublemaker? Because my dad met a lovely lady he's trying to woo? Because he's an alien?

Okay, maybe not the last one.

Sighing, I flopped back onto my bed, surrounded by boxes. "Well, it's not like I have anything to lose," I muttered. I flipped one of my textbooks open, running a hand over the printed ink. "Seems like you're all I got now, eh?"

* * *

September came all to quickly for my liking. In my boredom, I had already skimmed all of my books, cleaned out the sci-fi section of the library, and had emptied my sparse pocket change buying used books off the 'net (sneakily, of course...technically I was grounded from everything, and yet I was within walking distance of the post office). Everything was packed and ready; my ratty old backpack stuffed with some of my favorites, hair combed, etc.

Being dropped off at that school literally made me feel like my dad was abandoning me in the lion's den. Teenagers roamed around the grass, secretly smoking, talking about their summers, and doing stuff. Frowning, I walked through the doors into the school itself among whispers of confusion.

Small town. One new person comes and everyone buzzes around like a hornet from an upturned nest.

"Hello," a calm voice said from behind me. I jumped, and my locker door slammed shut. Grimacing, I reopened it and turned.

She was pretty. "You're pretty." Damn! "I mean, hey. One woman welcoming committee?" Smooth. I'm an idiot! Gah!

She smiled, flicking her flaming red hair over one shoulder. "Something like that," she answered. "I'm part of the student government, so I heard rumors of a new kid and thought I'd say hi. I'm Jean." She stuck out her hand.

I shook it warmly. Maybe this school had some promise after all. "Loki. So?" I pressed, slinging my pack over one shoulder in a 'cool' sort of way. I hoped.

"Well, you've got a map, I see. Homecoming's on the 29th. Game at 6, dance after til 11. Enjoy your time here!" With that, she was off, slinking towards some blond brute and cuddling him tenderly. Oh, gag me.

Okay, fun nice cuddly moment over. I looked at my map and directed myself to my first hour...P.E. Gag me even more. It was your standard gym class: everyone dresses, then stands around talking while the sport-dorks play basketball and football (touch, of course) to their hearts content. I stood off in a corner, watching. After watching this one guy run around and around and around the track, I got dizzy. Luckily enough it was time for the next class.

Pre-Calculus. I could have sworn I took that class at my last school...damn. Well, then. Guess I'll suck it up and deal. Not like I've had practice, or anything.

The rest of the day went agonizingly boringly slow. Is that even a sentence? I dunno. But it did. Band (trombone, what a fun instrument), english, lunch, chemistry, then economics/government. I spent most of the last hour banging my head on my desk while writing my hand off. What a pain. I hate taking notes!

There was some kid in my last hour of the day that had on these killer red sunglasses. He stood off in a corner, like me (in a different one, though, what would it be like if we shared a corner? Creepy, that's what. I don't even know his name!) and stared out the window. Taking a peek, I saw him oogling Jean, who had gym last hour. I guess.

I scratched my ear, then frowned and scratched harder. Five minutes until the bell rings, and I get the scratchies. Fate again! I tell you, she's got a grudge against me or something. Making me look like I've got lice or something. I swear-

My eyes widened and I bolted out of the classroom, ignoring the teacher's halfhearted attempts to wrangle me. I felt the bile rising farther up my throat and I barely made it into a stall before I spewed. Spitting the last of the ick out of my mouth, I wiped my face only to stare in shock at the water and the towel.

Blood. Everywhere. And my ears were burning, and so was my face. Everywhere burned, as a matter of fact. "Son of a bitch!" I groaned, throwing up another round of blood.

Then, of course, Sunglasses and Jean busted in.

To spare myself the mental embarrassment, I blacked out.


	2. Turn For The Worse

**A/N:** Yay! Chapter numero two. Thanks to my reviewers, I enjoyed your comments, and here is the chapter I'm sure you've been looking forward too-powers, powers, powers. Leave a review and tell me how I'm doing! Like it, hate it, he's a Stu, whatever. I love feedback. Lastly: I don't own Marvel/X-Men/Kool-Aid/DBZ. So, read on people! And happy President's day!

* * *

Just when you think everything is going okay, the universe decides it hates you and shoves you into a black hole. Ever had that feeling? I have. Trust me, it sucks. I bet that Fate, that crazy chick, is behind the helm of a ship with a giant finger attached and she just keeps poking and poking, pushing you down that dark little hole-

But I digress.

After my wonderful blood spewing episode, I opened my eyes to find Sunglasses and Jean obstructing my view. I groaned weakly, and they helped me sit up. Breathing deeply, I put my head in my hands and waited a moment. Finally, I muttered, "Thanks. I think."

Both of them gave weird little smiles, like they had a secret. Sunglasses held out his hand and introduced himself. "Scott Summers."

"Loki Hydimen." I shook his hand, then stood up, gazing around me.

I was in a park? Why a park? It was like a twerp park, too, with those little beasts running around and screaming. Jean giggled slightly and I looked at her, confused. Okay. I can deal with this. Wait..."How am I not dead?"

Scott shrugged. "We don't know. Maybe you had some red juice or something and it got the best of you." Sunlight glinted off his eye wear, and I reached up and snatched them away, ignoring his lame and totally bogus attempt to explain what happened earlier that afternoon.

"Cool shades," I said, trying them on. Almost immediately, they were taken away from me, and I frowned. "Dude, lighten up. They're sunglasses. You can buy 'em five for five at a dollar store."

He grumbled something along the lines of, "These are special," and I let it be.

A moment of awkward silence permeated the air. "Okay, then," I said in a bored voice. "Thanks for your concern and all, but I gotta split. Dad's still got me grounded forever and a day, until I prove I'm responsible." I turned, brushing blades of grass off my jeans, when Scott put an hand on my shoulder.

Now, Scott's tall, maybe six foot, but I've got three inches on him. Yay for being an abnormally tall person! Anyways, he got all serious and said, "If anything ever happens, anything strange, Xavier's is a safe place. Don't worry."

My first reaction? Righteous anger. "You think I'm strange? God, Michigan was a nicer place than this. At least no one was a jerk enough to call me names. They just manipulated me. Take your strange and shove it!" Then I stalked back home.

Lucky enough for me this place is small enough that you can wander around a place you've never been before and still find your way home. My father went on a tirade about shirking my punishments and took away any other privileges I might have had. Namely, TV and internet access.

Well, my first day was certainly...interesting. Thank goodness I always wear my black sweatshirt or Dad might've seen the blood.

And yes, it was blood. No half-assed excuse from Summers is going to make me think it was some fruit juice gone bad...whoah, mental image of the Kool-Aid guy dressed as a Mexican bandito. I shook my head, trying to concentrate on my homework. Of course, when all your mind is doing is playing a looped tape of the afternoon, homework becomes a mere triviality.

The rest of the evening was boring. Dad got called back to the office (some kind of special project he mumbled on the way out: I'm thinking it's an excuse for him to go get drunk with his friends) so I had the whole house to myself. Not like it was that exciting or anything.

Computer was unplugged. Phone was useless; wasn't connected since we only got here a few weeks ago. So, with that, I turned in for the night. Reading only sped up the process and before I knew it, I was out.

* * *

The rest of the week went mostly the same as my first day (minus the blood-barf). I spotted a few new people hanging with Summers and Jean. Some guy with blue(?) hair, and a girl. Well, a girly, preppy type of girl.

And before you get on my ass for stereotyping, that's the vibe I got with her every other word being 'like'.

So, of course, the weeks leading up to Homecoming held strange things for me. I was about ready to strangle Summers. I bet he's like a voodoo maniac and cursed me, or something. That could make sense...on another planet. Who am I kidding? Something was happening, anyways, but I'm going to wait to tell you.

Finally, finally, _finally _my groundedness was gone! My dad wanted me to socialize and keep an eye out for anything...get this...unusual. Was he expecting something bad to happen? Well, by the time the 29th rolled around, that was the least of my worries.

I came to school wearing a skullcap, hoping no one would notice or care. They didn't, surprisingly. I was able to go the whole day with it on, and nobody complained. They weren't as strict here, I see. I tried wearing my hood up one day in MI and got a detention. Yikes.

So, back to the game. I was excited; it was my first time out of the house for anything fun in a long time. I sat in the very back, oogling the cheerleaders (I'm a guy, what'dyou expect?) when something...tingled. It was a hard feeling to describe, like the wind had suddenly taken on a few volts and was zapping me. The source? I listened to the section beneath me and heard fighting.

What would you do? Ignore it, or investigate? Bah. Damn my curiosity. I crawled through the masses of people and under the bleachers, spying quietly. Summers was talking to some greenish kid, and a few football machos were pushing them both around.

The tingle came back, harder, and Scott shoved the assailant away. It looked an awful lot like Duncan, the guy Jean was going out with...

And I knew his name because he's a football guy, not because he was going out with Jean! Jeez, people.

Ahem. The frog kid, Todd someone had snarled, had apparently been pickpocketing wallets through the slits in the bleachers. Then, to my utter amazement, he stretched out his tongue and nicked Summers' glasses! Scott was so startled he kept his eyes open.

Looking back, I'm thinking he was mid-blink when I yoinked them, because these totally awesome blast things came shooting out, and the red-pink beams hit the propane tank being used to cook the concession stand food. Naturally, it exploded. The feeling of the warm air across my face, even as shrapnel sliced open my cheeks, was heavenly.

It was like being the happiest person on earth. Nothing could ruin that moment.

So, of course, something did. Scott dived and pinned me to the ground, riding out the rest of the explosion. People started shouting, and I poked my head out from Summers' armpit to check out the scene. I was surprised to find myself missing the wind on my face the way I'd missed walking that one time I broke my ankle playing ice hockey.

Scott seemed to realize what position we were in, and he rolled off of me, standing quickly. "How much of that did you see?" he barked.

"Lots. Todd has a wicked tongue, and you have eye beams. Were you blinking or something when I took them at the park?" I asked, brushing debris off of me and wiping away the blood.

And surprise number one slapped me in the face. I stared at the liquid covering my fingers...and it most definitely was not blood. Unless blood has suddenly become bright blue?

I didn't think so. I shook my hand furiously and a few drops splattered onto the metal girders of the bleachers. Scott and I watched in fascination as my blood-that-was-not-blood rusted straight through the steel in a matter of moments.

"Uh..." Gosh, when I talk like that, it's hard to tell I'm an intelligent person, isn't it? I shook my head, trying to rid it of the images plaguing my brain. Scott snuck up on me, and put his hand on my shoulder, awkwardly trying to comfort me while still trying to obey the unspoken man laws.

Yes, we do have those.

"It's okay, Loki. Why don't you call your dad and come talk with the Professor?"

I shook my head again, and the hat I was wearing slipped off. I let out a choked breath and covered my ears with my hands.

Hello, Loki? Surprise number two, welcome to your new house-my head.

I felt the tips and inhaled shakily, searching for a reflective surface. Scott's glasses were available, so I grabbed his head and brought the shiny plastic to my face, turning it and letting out little mewls of protest. I hadn't looked at them since it started, two weeks ago..."Holy shit, I look like the bastard son of an elf and that green guy from DragonBall Z!" I shrieked and shoved Summers' head away.

And, thank goodness, last but not least, surprise number three.

I didn't actually touch him...the tingle came back, and he was blasted back by a silver-tinged wind. I stared at him, then bolted.

Oh, come on! What did you expect? My blood breaks things, I have freakishly long and pointed ears, and now silver wind is pushing people away from me. I sprinted home, panting slightly, and felt the tell-tale tightening of my chest and swore.

I burst through my front door, running past my dad up to my room, and flipped my pillow up. Still wheezing, I took a puff from my puffer, and began to breathe easier. Another puff and I was back to normal. I just remembered! I hate running! And that is why. Sprinting of any kind makes my asthma flare up. Then, of course, to add insult to injury, I caught a look of myself in the mirror.

Oh my! What could that possible be? Hello, the surprise from hell! Thought you were safe, yes? Wrong!

My beautiful, wonderful, girl-wooing, gorgeous hazel eyes? Gone. Not there. Nada.

In their place? Silver. Reflective, shiny, liquid silver.

Honestly, could this day get any worse?

My dad came pounding up the stairs, answering my question for me. He slammed the door into the wall, and I jumped. The silver wind came back, then, slamming the door right back shut. Oh crap. Now I'm in trouble. If there's one thing Dad hates, it's people slamming doors at him. And this time I didn't even do it!

Well, not on purpose.

So he walked in again, face redder than a bottle of ketchup, and growled, "What on earth was that?"

I let out a nervous laugh, trying to keep my eyes closed and subtley pull my hood up at the same time. Too bad my dad noticed and gave me his don't-move-a-muscle glare. "Erm...what? Oh, I was getting mugged, and my asthma kicked in so I needed my puffer fast and, well..."

I locked eyes with him and he blanched. Shit. This can't be good. Then a look of pure, unadulterated fury darkened his face like a thundercloud coming to a head. Double shit.

"They've been talking about it, suspecting a population here in Bayville, done this how many times before and now I find out my own son is one? How on earth is this possible? I knew something was fishy with his mother, but she was a dirty whore, she must've done it with some street rat, there's no way he's my child, no WAY!" The last word he screamed at me, and I flinched back.

"Dad, please-"

"I AM NOT YOUR FATHER, FILTH!" he bellowed, throwing my stuff around in a fury. I felt the silver wind come back, acute as any of my senses, and it whirled around me in a protective barrier. This only enraged him more, and he pulled a lighter out of his pocket and started lighting my blankets on fire! I jumped at him, desperately trying to beat out the flames, and rescued all the covers off my bed before my father bodily picked me up and dragged me downstairs.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled, thrashing in his grasp. We reached the front door and he tossed me out on my ass. I stood up, cussing loudly, and he slammed the door. I very quickly got the picture: he didn't want me back.

I had to promise myself I wouldn't break down into tears like a girl. It wasn't working very well.

The night was very quiet after that. I trudged along, dragging my blankets behind me, and finally arrived at the place my wanderings had taken me.

Of course. Can't get away from them, can I? Not for one damn day. On top of all the crazy things that have happened, I end up here. The silver wind came back, wrapping around me, and as it tugged my hair in unruly directions, I felt a little better.

Am I insane?

I must be. I'm standing at the gate, officially been kicked out of my own home (well, not officially, not yet, I think), and here I am at Xavier's freak show home, waiting to see if I get a bed tonight.

"Loki?"

Great. Jean's here too?

Fate hates me. Did I kill her puppy, or something?

"Yeah. Can I-" My voice broke, and I swallowed. "Can I stay here for a bit? Please?"

And, to make a long story short, she let me in, gave me a room, and told me to meet with the Professor.

I can't even begin to imagine what the rest of my life is going to be like.


	3. New Life, New Everything

**A/N:** Well, I just had so many ideas banging around in my head that I couldn't update Looking Through Blind Eyes until all the stuff I had for this story is in writing. Okay, so there is more, but my fingers are begging me to stop. They're also telling me that I don't own X-Men: Evolution. That makes me sad. Don't forget to review, and read on!

* * *

So, here I am. I've been kicked out of my own home, dragging only a bunch of blankets and the clothes on my back, and I've turned into some kind of wind demon thing. I'm standing awkwardly in the elaborate hall of Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters (ha ha), waiting with Jean while Summers gets this Professor dude up for me to talk to.

When did my life become such a mess? I was so deep in my thoughts, my emotions ranging from bone-deep anger to depression, that the silver wind knocked over all the vases and expensive stuff. I stood stock still, my silver eyes flashing (and most definitely not brimming with angry tears) as Jean scraped up the debris.

"Happens all the time," she reassured. "You should have seen me when I first started learning. I wrecked stuff all the time."

As if that made me feel any better. Jean, the smartest person I know, from my whole ten minutes of contact, had trouble with her...powers.

Can I even call them that? They seem pretty rebellious to me. The silver wind nipped me-it's sharp! A rip opened in my favorite sweatshirt and I was distracted for a split second. So, of course, that's when Scott brought in the mysterious professor.

Who turned out to be an old bald guy in a wheelchair. I coughed, and held out my hand nervously. The man shook it firmly, taking a look at the damage I'd done. "Doing a little redecorating, Loki?" he murmured, cocking his head.

I blanched. "I'm sorry, sir, I mean, Professor, I mean, well, I didn't know you liked them, actually, I can't really control it right now and-" The Professor held up a hand and my babbling stopped. I felt the blood-is my blush still red?-heat up my cheeks.

"My apologies. I find that humor is often a good way to break the ice. My name is Charles Xavier, and I am a mutant. Not unlike yourself." I felt his gaze probing my eyes and ears, and turned away, unable to meet his gaze.

Bravado and bluster, meet meek and afraid. Isn't it easy to lose your cool when your life spirals out of control?

"Mutant?" I muttered, eyeing him. He looked pretty normal...I bet he had a third eye hidden somewhere.

"No, no third eyes here," Xavier said, his smile quirking.

I could only gape. "You- you-"

"Read your mind, yes. It is a gift I share with Jean. Scott has his optic beams, as you have seen-" I sneaked a look at said mutant (ewww...ugly word) and received a stiff nod in return "-and we have two other recruits right now, Kurt and Kitty. Well, along with Logan and Ororo, but I think that they wouldn't really count. They aren't students, after all."

I swallowed nervously. "Are they, gonna, you know, be okay with me being here? I mean, I don't want to be a nuisance or anything-" Xavier halted my babble once more with a hand and motioned for me to follow him.

"Logan is rarely in the house and Ororo is very open to new students," he replied as we puttered along the hall. I trailed off to the side, reluctant, and looking rather stupid carrying a bunch of fabric squares. "And I do not think it is stupid to have mementos of your home."

I blushed, and the mini-parade ground to a halt. "Erm...thanks..." I whispered, stepping in and closing the door behind me. Then, of course, Xavier upped the weird factor by about ten kajillion.

_We will talk more tomorrow, Loki. And your control training will begin. Because you have an affinity for wind, you will be working under Ororo, or, as her codename is, Storm. Sleep well._

Riiiiiight. Like anyone could sleep well after that. Spreading my mementos out on the bed, I flopped wearily on top of the covers.

Now, I bet you're wondering what the deal is with the blankets, right? Well, my mom used to crochet when she and my dad were still...together. She made this really big, soft, comfortable, black and silver blanket for me and I've never slept without it. Then she bought me a few more...I'm attached. Pathetic, no?

So, of course, instead of sleeping, I stayed up all night, trying not to blender-ify all the things in my room. My room. Strange to think of it as mine, seeing as how it's so impersonal and uniform. I need to get some pictures or something up before I go insane. And a fan. For background noise, of course.

The hours ticked past and before I knew it, someone was knocking at my door. I took a look at my complimentary alarm clock- 5:26 a.m. I let out a groan and covered my head with a pillow. Whoever it was, instead of going away, decided to speak anyway. "Time to wake up and get started, child," a soft voice called.

"It's frickin' Saturday morning, you freak," I grumbled in response, then froze. I shot up, eyes wide and panicked, and scrambled to the door. I opened it and gasped, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it that way, it's just I didn't get much sleep and I'm nervous and now I'm babbling again, aren't I?"

She laughed lightly and I rubbed my eyes. "I will give you four minutes to get dressed into exercise clothes and meet me in the entrance hall." With that, she left, her white hair swirling behind her.

I'll admit I was stunned. That was my teacher? Another cut opened up on my arm and I absentmindedly wiped away the blood, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top I found in the dresser next to my bed. Of course, it then hit me that I had greeted my teacher in my boxers.

I bet she hates me already.

I made it out of my room in three minutes, and stumbled out to the main entrance. Right on time, I supposed, because Miss Ororo was waiting for me. She crooked a finger and I followed hesitantly.

Once we were suitably far enough away from the mansion, she halted the silent procession and waited. I shifted from foot to foot, unsure.

"Can you show me your wind?" I nodded and looked around. Hmmm...a problem. How do I make it come back? I was not entirely sure how to call the silver winds. I held out my hand and Miss Ororo walked around me, studying my posture and face.

"You are very tense," she said quietly. "Loosen your muscles. Let the wind flow from inside you."

I nodded, and forcibly loosened my rigid posture until I was holding my arms up like a music conductor. I imagined the silver wind arcing out from my fingers, not slicing me up like it was so fond of, and instead flying out away from me. I opened my eyes (when did I close them?) and saw that a poor, innocent tree was neat little piles of roundish firewood. Storm nodded.

"Now, try it with your eyes open, and don't take as long." My smile faded, and thus began a long, long day of attempting to wrangle these wind powers into submission.

Needless to say, when we crawled back to the mansion for dinner, I was bloody, sliced, most of the landscaping was destroyed, and the silver wind hadn't gone away. It circled around me, ruffling my hair, and occasionally breaking something.

I think I actually backtracked in my progress today.

I did not intend to eat dinner with the rest of the students here...until I found someone had locked me out of my room. I stalked downstairs and sat down at the table, far away from everyone else. That did not last long.

I heard a loud 'bamf' next to me and the next thing I know, this fuzzy blue alien thing is in my face. I made a slashing motion and the kid narrowly missed being cut in two.

Hey, maybe the training today is going okay? Hard to tell, because the same slash rebounded and slapped me full in the face. I wiped my blood out of my face, careful not to get it on anything but my already disintegrating clothes.

The kid laughed and stuck out a three fingered hand. "Hi! I'm Kurt Wagner. Nice to meet you!" I wearily shook his hand, eating with the other.

"Loki Hydimen. Same." I was not in a talkative mood.

"So, I've seen you around school," he continued, oblivious to my bad mood. "You have english and science with me, I think? And maybe math with Kitty. I'm not sure." He leaned in close, like he was telling me a secret. "She's kind of a stick in the mud right now, with the whole I'm a mutant thing." He nodded wisely. "I'm thinking once she gets used to them, she'll be more receptive to the fuzzy dude."

I rolled my eyes. "That's nice and all, but why are you telling me this?"

He grabbed a bunch of rolls and dumped them on his plate, tearing into one. Kurt gave me a full blown 'are-you-that-thick-headed?' look, and I shrugged. "Well, you're new, you're alone, Scott and Jean are talking, and Kitty has banned me from her presence." A thoughtful look crossed his face. "The Professor has his own stuff to do, Storm keeps to herself, and Logan is...Logan." He shivered.

I caught this as I stood up from my meal. "Logan is scary?" I offered.

Kurt nodded. He bamfed in front of me, and I flinched. My wind sliced open a minuscule cut on the 'fuzzy dude's' arm. Kurt laughed it off, however. "You have no idea. Mostly he just rides around on his bike and fights his rival or whoever Sabertooth is. Sometimes he comes to eat, though, or do missions."

"Oh," was all I could think of to say. The conversation lapsed into awkward silence, and I edged toward my bedroom, trying to escape. Kurt seemed to notice, and let me leave. I flopped back onto my bed, and before I could even think to do anything, I was unconscious.

* * *

That most definately didn't last long. I woke up to a blaring alarm. Trying to hide my head under the pillow solved nothing other than making the noise fuzzier, not any less annoying. Next thing I know, Xavier is yelling at me via mind-speak, telling me to get down to the Danger Room.

With a name like that, why in the seven levels of hell would I want to go down there? Nonetheless, I wrestled on a pair of pants and darted out the door, leaving a wake of rips in the walls as I tried to figure out where exactly to go. I met up with Kurt in my wandering, and he motioned for me to follow him.

We went down. Farther than the basement, I guess, because it got even colder as the elevator dropped down and down and down. Finally, Kurt seemed to get impatient, grabbed a hold of me, and teleported.

It was a rush of color and sound mixed in a blender then dumped over my head. We arrived in a room of gleaming metal and I wobbled my way away from Kurt. That was one experience I never wanted to feel again. Trying to straighten my spinning vision, I focused on a spot of black...moving...towards us. Shit.

The figure held out a hand and three gleaming claws shot out of the back. I took a nervous step backwards, and the person rushed me. I ducked under the claws, turning around, and imagined the wind coming out and slicing my assailant to bits.

The winds came out, all right, just they went everywhere instead of at the cloaked guy. I hissed in pain, and heard Kurt do the same behind me.

Then, suddenly, the voice of God echoed around the room. "That is enough, Logan. I understand your point, but this was a bit extreme, don't you think?"

I heard a few other sighs and snorts. I turned; Kitty, Jean, Scott, and Miss Ororo were standing, talking with the guy in black who had jumped us. Miss Ororo gestured to me, and the new guy shot me a Look.

He was scary, alright. Rugged looking, with blue hair, and a snarl looked permanently stuck to his face. "All X-Men to the Blackbird, please," the Professor called. "We have a situation."

I shuffled backwards, hoping to avoid notice, when Logan sniffed and glared at me. I gave him my best 'I'm-innocent-please-stop-staring-at-me' look, but he obviously was immune to my charms and pulled me along to this Blackbird thing.

Well, I didn't realize it was a freaking jet! I stood, gaping, being tugged along into the vehicle in my sweats and no shirt, wondering what the hell just happened and what the hell was going on.

Logan strapped me in, and the rest of the X-Men appeared dressed in these skin-tight suits, looking seriously like someone had told them their kitten had just died. The mood was very somber, and as we lifted off and sped to who knows where in the middle of the night, I squeaked out, "Where are we going?"

Logan growled, "South. Charles says there's some rouge mutant that just discovered her powers. We're here to help." He turned a glare towards me again. I shrunk back into my seat.

"Great. Then why am I here?" Bad mouth, running off with stupid questions around a person who apparently has a bad temper and a set of wicked powers to boot.

"Field training. Had to happen sooner or later." Later would have been preferable...especially when I have no shirt on and minimal control over my own powers. What a life.

All the teenagers chattered quietly as the jet blasted us down south. As to the exact location, well, wouldn't I like to know? Curiosity killed the cat, and the mutant right behind it trying to rescue the damn thing.

We touched down after a hard hour of flying. I disembarked, sticking close to Miss Ororo, who was flying above and scanning the subdivision. "What are we looking for?" I asked, idly turning over a pebble with my wind.

"A girl, your age, running away or causing trouble. Otherwise known as a mutant who just found out her powers, and is very confused and hurt." WELL, when you put it that way, I could pick her out of, oh, say, ten thousand other angsting teenagers. Not.

Fifteen minutes turned up nothing except sounds of a scuffle over the comm link. Well, it wasn't even mine, it was Storm's. I was just listening extra closely. I looked up at the moon, and lo and behold, some girl comes popping into existance the way Kurt does and falls next to me. I leaped back, unsure, but she just stood up and glanced back and forth, panicked.

"Hey! Hey!" I called, approaching her slowly. "Are you okay?"

"You're one of them X-Men people! You're hunting me!" Her voice held the typical twang of a southern accent. Duh. Southern people have southern accents. Now I'm even thinking stupid things!

"What?" I looked up at Miss Ororo, who was keeping out of reach for the time being. "We don't hunt people. Well, I don't think they do. I'm not really 'one of them'."

She looked at me suspiciously, and I took a better look at her. White streaks in her hair (does anyone have normal hair? Makes my dishwater blond self feel slightly incompetent), see-through shirt, gloved hands. "I don't believe you. I can't trust anyone. Especially not someone like you, or like that blue guy."

I shrugged, pretending like the barb at my...less than human appearance hadn't happened. "Fine. Do and think what you will. I'm just here for 'field experience'." Storm floated down, and the girl got an even more panicked look in her eyes and teleported away.

So, the morning ended when we cut our losses and left. Kurt, Logan, and even Storm had been touched by this chick who had taken their memories and powers into herself and almost wrecked the whole town with Miss Ororo's powers.

Everyone was near silent on the way back. We had strict instructions to sleep until tomorrow (Monday) and recuperate. Kurt woke up, very groggily, and Kitty surprised everyone by hugging him fiercely. I looked back out the window, and silently thanked my lucky stars that Rouge (as they took to calling her) didn't fall on me when we met. That could have gotten ugly.

We staggered into the mansion, weary, tired, beaten, and silent.

Life has definitely gotten a hell of a lot weirder. And, dare I say it, I was kind of looking forward to it.


	4. Things Go Pear Shaped

**A/N:** So, firstly, thanks to **demonlrd66 **for reviewing. Will you believe me when I say it made me so happy I danced around my living room like an idiot? Possibly. This chapter is dedicated to you and all my other reviewers. Thanks for giving me your opinion, I work hard to keep Loki not a Stu and a likeable person. Though after this chapter you might want to smack him. I don't own X-Men: Evolution, so don't sue. Read ahead, my fellow fanfictionites!

* * *

So, everything was going wonderfully in my life until I moved. And it wasn't just your normal 'oh gawd my social life is ovur1!!1' type of bad. No. It was, 'puke your blood out, bleed something that rusts things uberfast, be able to (kind of) control really sharp silver winds and get kicked out of your house' bad. It's funny how I thought being made to pack every knick-knack in a house was punishment.

Here? Ten times worse. I might not sleep much, but I like it. These people are dead set against me sleeping. I awoke on Monday morning to the shrill beeping of my alarm clock. You know, the one I hadn't had enough time to set between getting my ass kicked by my own powers and being carted around for field experience? That one. Yeah.

I turned my head a fraction of an inch and gazed at the molten red numbers through bleary eyes. It read 4:30 a.m. "Who on earth set this thing for this early?" I screeched, throwing the offending object across the room. Well, I tried, but my winds sliced it neatly to parts before I could lift a finger.

If I'm this bad at home, how the hell am I going to survive school?

Still muttering curses under my breath, I crawled out from the comfort of my blankets and pulled on a pair of sweats and a tank top. And before you ask, yes I own school clothes and yes I changed my boxers.

Geez, people.

Moving on. I stumbled out of my room, not even walking straight, when Kurt practically slammed into me. That kid has waaayto much energy. I don't even move this much on a normal day! He grinned devilishly and grabbed onto my arm. Once again being subjected to the color-blender had me rolling around on the metal floors of the Danger Room in slight nauseousness.

"Aren't you excited, Loki?" he called, his tail twitching behind him. "It's your first Danger Room exercise! It's going to wake you up and then you'll officially be an X-Man in training!"

I shot him a death glare, but somehow he brushed it off. "Scott wants a word with you," he said as an afterthought as he 'ported off. My guess is to bother Kitty.

A little insight into the move: he was falling for her head over heels. We only bug the ones its entertaining to watch explode when it happens.

I stood up shakily and crossed my arms over my chest, desperate to get warm. I honestly can't stand being cold. Call it a pet peeve. And right now I was pretty peeved. Shades himself strutted up and I gave him a half-wave. "He-ey," I sing-songed nasally. "Sup, dawg?"

"This is a level one training exercise. Your objective is to take out the guns. We'll be watching from up there. Good luck!" And before I could mount any type of protest, Kurt had made the whole group vanish into the control booth. I looked around, still fuzzy from the early morning wake-up call and the 'porting.

"What gu-" My sentence was abruptly cut off as the area off to my immediate left exploded. I let out a shriek (and it definitely didn't sound like a cat being dropped off the Empire State building) and darted away.

I spent the next thirty-eight seconds running away from the blazing death machines. Then my asthma kicked in. I dropped to my knees as I struggled to inhale, groping vainly at my pockets for my puffer. Then, of course, I remembered exactly where it was: under my pillow in my dad's house. Well, shit.

Today's not starting out very well.

I held my arms above my head, trying to recall what my doctor had said to do when it was out of reach. Something about breathing evenly...but how could I do that when, as one, all the guns in the room turned to focus on me? They all let out a concussive blast and I closed my eyes. Everything fled.

* * *

Next thing I know, something really cold is being pressed on my forehead and I cracked open my eyes. My whole body ached, but I wasn't dead. That's the important part. I let out a groan, and the Professor puttered in with his little wheelchair and stationed himself right next to me. I was lying down, so we were about even as far as eye contact.

"Well, Loki," he started. "You certainly neglected to mention you suffered from EIA."

"I don't suffer unless I run," I pointed out. "And why didn't you just pick that piece of info from my brain, eh? Could've saved the both of us a load of trouble."

Xavier inclined his head, steepling his fingers. "I don't look through peoples minds unless I have their explicit permission. A mind is a personal thing. I try not to invade unless I am invited."

I rolled my eyes, levering myself up to a sitting position. My skin stung something awful, and a little ruffle of my hair let me know the silver wind had come back.

Does someone want to explain to me why they stopped working during the exercise and start working in order to hurt me? I am so freakishly confused by my own gifts. I bet Jean never had this much trouble. Or Scott. Or even Kitty!

I waved away the Professor and hobbled my way back up to my room. It was a few minutes after six; a.k.a., when I should have gotten up. Already I could feel the bed practically calling my name, but I resisted. Instead, I struggled into my loosest pair of jeans and my loosest sweatshirt. It was a bit tasteless wearing the team shirt from a different state to your new school, but I didn't care. It was big and wouldn't make my skin hurt any more than it already was.

Once I had dressed, I slowly made my way down to the kitchen where the rest of the gang was chilling. Kitty was desperately trying to finish her math homework while Kurt heckled her. Scott was making goo-goo eyes at Jean, who was reading. I grabbed an apple and was halfway into sleep once more when Kurt bamfed in front of me. I jerked awake, the silver wind lashing out in self-defense.

Kurt, now sporting a lovely gash on one cheek, winced and held a napkin to his face. "Here," he said simply. "Press the red button to turn it on, and again to turn it off. It's a real watch, too."

I nodded my thanks, even though I didn't know what it was I was thanking him for, and strapped it on. It was a watch, turns out, and I pressed the red button, expecting a nuclear explosion. My hopes faded when all I felt was a slight tingle.

"Huh," Kitty said, chewing on the end of her pencil. "When you've got the inducer on, you're not half bad. That you're original face?"

I raised an eyebrow, confused. "What?" I asked. "Explain it slowly, with small words."

"It puts a nice, normal face on instead of your scary mutant face," she said slowly, emphasizing each syllable. I rolled my eyes and walked off, itching my unmentionables. I swear, being fried by those guns gave me super-sunburn. It hurts.

I waited at the end of Xavier's ridiculously long driveway for around half an hour before Kurt and Kitty joined me. Twenty more minutes, and the bus came. I was already willing to go to bed and here it was not even seven. I'm beginning to think this X-Men thing wasn't the best choice ever.

Bus rides always suck. They're bumpy, crowded, and loud. Being in a bumpy, crowded, and loud bus while having minimal control over very obvious silver wind was an unwanted lesson in control. I only cut someone else once; the bus seat took the rest of the abuse.

Everyone exited just in time for the first bell to ring. Jogging off in the way people in pain do, I made it to my locker to find...it was gone. I turned and looked around in confusion. Then I looked up...and up...and found my locker, in the hands of some blob guy's hands. He was holding it over a cowed looking Duncan (who fully deserved to be ground into burger, make no mistake), and I was about ready to cheer him into action when Jean appeared, soothing the savage beast.

Okay, he wasn't a savage beast. Just a dumb one. Jean gave him careful directions to his classes and sent him on his way.

I dozed through the day, careful not to let the wind tear anyone up but me. And, of course, when my hands started bleeding (it was red: thank you image inducer!) people asked questions to which I answered lazily, "Bad paper cut."

No one really believed me, but they didn't bother me anymore. Lunch was fun; an impromptu food fight started by none other than the Blob himself. He splattered his pile o' food on Duncan, who retaliated in kind, and it's really no secret what happened next. I laughed like everyone else and cowered like everyone else when he lifted a table over his head.

I spotted Jean following the kid and snuck up to eavesdrop. Hey, I'm a curious little bastard. Sue me.

"I just wish they would stop laughing. I just get so mad..." Jean shushed him, laying a hand on his arm.

"It's okay. You're special, in you own way. Just don't hurt them, that's all."

"That's not how I learned it, but..." He grimaced, and sighed. "I'll try."

I snickered silently. Curious, vindictive little bastard. "Jean!" I called, striding up. I flung an arm casually across her shoulders, and she shoved me away angrily.

"What, Loki?"

I smirked. "Nothin', just wanted to say hi to my favorite redhead, you know." I turned away, winking. "See ya around."

Jean said nothing to me for the rest of the day. Finally, school let out. Why do they make it so boring? The least they could do when stealing eight hours of my day is make it worth my while. Scott was pacing anxiously around his car and I felt a brief flash of jealousy. I was going to need to learn to drive sometime.

"Have you seen Jean?" he asked. I shook my head. "I bet it's that Fred kid," he muttered.

"Oh?"

"You know, the new guy. Looks like a mountain? He's pretty hard to miss, especially after that lunch debacle."

I shrugged, pulling my pack back onto my shoulder. "I don't know, Scott. Get your panties out of your ass. You'll live, I'm sure."

He scowled darkly at me. "I wanted to tell her I had play practice with Rouge this afternoon and I'd be missing the Danger Room session."

I felt a brief flash of horror. They do those things twice a day? Evil little man, that Xavier. I waved goodbye and boarded the bus once more. Kitty sat next to me, and I tuned her out. She was nice, just...enthusiastic.

We made it home to the Mansion in record time. Kitty ran out into the yard in full X-Men regalia to play with Kurt. I sat down on the grass wrapped in a blanket and watched them, laughing my butt off. Off to my right I saw Logan and Miss Storm talking about something. My eyes began to drift closed, but once again, before I could fall asleep completely, I was being shaken awake.

"Jean's in trouble," Kitty said, glancing back at Kurt. "We're going to the school via Kurt."

I sighed heavily and held out my arm, keeping my eyes closed through the kaleidoscope of color that was his teleportation. We landed and I walked in a circle briskly to rid myself of the dizziness.

"The Professor said Jean's back in a store room with Fred," she said. Behind her, Scott appeared, looking stiff and formal in his visor thing. He explained that Kurt had bamfed in on his practice with Rogue and let him know of the situation, and I snorted.

"She let you go?"

He ignored me. "We'll head in. Loki, act as a distraction. Kitty, grab Jean. Kurt, take her home. I'll keep him busy." We all nodded and snuck around the edge of the warehouse. I could faintly hear voices through the thin metal walls.

Scott nudged me in the arm and I inhaled deeply before strutting in. "Hey, babe," I said cooly. "What's brought you here with him?" I nodded in the Blob's direction. He took great offense and his face purpled.

"She's enjoying a date with me!" he shouted, banging his meaty fists on the table.

"Tied up?" I said skeptically, then flung my hands out. The silver winds sprang and sliced clean through the rope tying her to the table...and might have nicked her a few times, but she was free and that was the point. "Now let her go," I demanded in my best 'hero' voice.

I could see Kitty phasing through the wall and nodded. She grabbed Jean and walked slowly backwards. "She was having fun, then you ruined it!" Fred howled, lifting the table and tossing it at me. "I'll get you!" I ducked the projectile, and stuck out my tongue, blowing him a raspberry.

Then, of course, when things couldn't get worse, Logan showed up, growling and threatening in his usual gruff manner. I barked, "I had it under control!" as we ducked a bunch of boxes.

"Right," Wolverine snapped sarcastically. "Very under control." He unsheathed his claws and attacked, but before he could get in a decent swipe, Fred had picked him clear off the ground and thrown him on top of poor Scott. One, two, three, they're down. Naturally, I was distracted for a moment and that was when the iron bar the Blob wielded connected to the back of my head. I dropped like a sack of rocks, stars spinning around in line of sight.

I felt myself being lifted up by my shirt collar, and a wash of warm breath shot across my face. I winced, my eyes crossing. "Who's the tough guy now, huh?" he whispered menacingly. I let out a weak groan in response.

A blast of heat flashed across my vision and I nearly screamed as my headache tripled in intensity. "Put him down," said a slightly familiar Southern voice.

"What if I don't want to?" The Blob said, waving me around. Loki has not become a rag doll, I wanted to protest, but my voice had deserted me.

"Then I'll do this." And bam, just like that, I was back on the ground. That headache was knocking around the confines of my skull and I stood, crossing my eyes.

"Thanks," I slurred, and a streak of silver darted out and sliced open a line on her thigh. She wiped away the blood casually and turned to leave. Jean came up from behind me, supporting me with her mental gifts.

So I'm not good enough to require physical contact? Jean, you wound me. "Why did you help us?" she asked stiffly. Rouge shrugged, clearly agitated.

"I don't know. Leave me alone!" she shouted, and ran off.

I grinned weakly. "Does this mean you'll give me a kiss and heal me?" Jean humphed and smacked the lump on my head. I cringed.

Okay. So things are weird. But it's life now, I guess. Couldn't get worse, right?

Karma's going to eat me after that little line.


	5. Another Joyful Addition to the Team

**A/N: **This chapter is the re-done version of the first one. Originally, it went too fast, was very disjointed, and overall not up to my standards. Hopefully you'll like this one a bit better. I sure do. It has more humor in it. I don't own, so don't sue, you should know that by now. Please, leave a review! I love them! I really do. They're like the candy I can't eat because I gave it up for Lent. *sigh*

* * *

Believe it or not, there actually were some perks to having a concussion. First thing, no school. Second thing, no training sessions. And finally, after Xavier mentally examined me, figuring out what exactly my new blood is.

"You're joking."

"Rest assured, Loki, I am not."

"You have to be! That's ridiculous! Liquid oxygen for blood but I still have asthma? That's bullshit!" I threw my hands into the air, letting them drop onto the thin hospital sheets. A heavy bandage was wrapped across my head and I scratched it irritably.

Xavier sighed, rubbing his temple, and replied flatly, "Language." I hope you get a frickin' migraine! He glanced at me sharply and I looked around the medical wing of the Professor's expansive mansion, avoiding his eyes.

It's like it never ends!

But still. It's no wonder it ate through the steel girders. Liquid oxygen...unbe-freaking-lieveable. That really put the topping on my cake. I rolled over onto my side, wiping my eyes. They wouldn't let me sleep, they wouldn't let me wander, and they wouldn't move me until I proved I could stop seeing double, which ceased in the first...um...well, it's done now!

"Ororo wants to take you to see her nephew at the basketball game tonight," the man said after a minute of my ignoring him.

"Great."

"She thinks that being around people will help you control your powers."

"Also great."

"She wants to see if you can work on making your wind less sharp."

"Nice."

"I want you to tap dance in your underwear."

"Aweso-hey!" I frowned at him. Just because I'm a teenager doesn't mean I'm an idiot! ...Okay, maybe a little. Small attention span plus grievances against the man blocked my ears and put me on auto-response mode.

I shrugged. "When does the game start?" My wind swirled around my fingers as I stared idly at them. They were really shiny and nice. I just wish they hadn't screwed up my life the way they had.

"A few hours," he replied casually. "Well, I think you're well enough. Go on, go get dressed. Find someone to talk to. It's Friday, and a young man such as yourself needs plenty of social interaction to develop normally. Especially because of the hard time you're going through right now."

Great. Now the Professor is giving me life advice. What is he, a fortune cookie? I carefully unwrapped the bandage from my head, wincing at the patch that had been eaten through.

My blood is highly corrosive. Neat.

A few hours to kill, hmm? I pondered my sudden burst of spare time while putting on my regular clothes. The hospital gown didn't last long; I shredded it as soon as I was clothed. Smirking, I looked at the clock and made a decision.

Wouldn't it be fun to watch the rest of the gang getting their butts kicked? I thought so, and with a happy grin on my face, I bounced down to the Danger Room control booth.

It's this neat little pod thing that's above the Room itself and you can adjust everything from in there. It's like being God. And you religious nuts, don't yell at me, it's a simile. Relax.

Sitting in the booth, cracking my knuckles eagerly, I set everything to HARD and 100% ACCURACY. Take that, Summers!

It was like setting a magnifying glass on a nest of ants. Kurt 'ported left and right, desperately trying to avoid the suddenly more accurate blasts. Scott and Jean tag-teamed, but Scott got knocked back by a claw-thing. Kitty was running through things, trying to short them out, but she wasn't paying attention and forgot to phase. The expression on her face when she smacked into the wall...

Priceless.

Jean spotted me, and her eyes narrowed. She must have sent a message via mind because they all looked up at me and screeched, "**LOKI!!!**"

Well, I got in some trouble for that. Not a lot, it's not like anyone died or anything. I got a brief lecture that ended once the Professor realized I wasn't paying attention. Rolling his eyes, he shooed me off to wait by the car. I guess in my enjoyment of my friends' pain, the several hours of downtime I had spiralled into 'go wait and don't make any more trouble'.

Leaning against the hood, I practiced making the winds rove gently over my fingers. I received my fair share of nicks and cuts, but less than normal. I said no more cutting, it obeyed like a rebellious teenager.

"Ready to go?" Miss Ororo said, twirling the keys around one finger. I nodded and leaped into the car.

"So, who're we cheering for?"

"Evan. He's pretty easy to recognize, especially after he bleached his hair." She revved the engine and we tore out of the property.

For a calm and quiet chick, she drives scary fast. I had a death grip on every available surface and I'm pretty sure I chewed through my lower lip. We pulled sharply into the parking lot, and I leaped out so fast you'd've sworn my ass was on fire. "You drive insanely, did you know that?"

She just smiled and crooked her finger. "Come on, it's already started." We didn't have to pay to get in, citing a relative on the team. I just smiled cheekily and waved after the guy gave us both a flat stare and ushered us through.

We threaded our way over to sit with Evan's parents, who were cheering loudly. I winced and hunkered down to try and peek under those horribly short cheerleader skirts.

At least I'm an honest pig, right?

The quarters ticked by. It was down to the wire, the very last few seconds. Evan was wide open, with a clear shot. Someone on the other team shoved him away, and I shouted angrily, "Foul, Ref! Are you blind, or what?" Evan growled in frustration, and something bone-colored shot out of his forearm.

That shut me up. I looked over at Miss Ororo, who nodded seriously. I bet she suspected this...but why did she bring me along? Not for my healthy influence, I'm sure.

"That's Evan's friend, Pietro," she pointed out. "They're probably the best two players on the team." I nodded, keeping my eyes trained on the two of them. Pietro, who had a shock of white hair, grimaced and passed the ball to Evan, who sank it easily for the winning point.

Now that the game was over, the gym was mysteriously empty. I had to chuckle at that. Don't want to get caught up in traffic. Miss Ororo walked and talked with her sister and her husband as they waited outside the locker room for their little star to finish up.

I got bored quickly once I figured out I wasn't included in the conversation. Grinning, I edged away from the oblivious adults and walked in on Evan and Pietro arguing.

So much for friends.

"I'm the better ball player by far, Evan. Just remember that!" Pietro snarled, then stormed out. He didn't even give me a passing glance, but he did shove me away. The silver winds writhed around my fingers, digging in and expressing their distaste I hadn't let them take off his arm.

I glanced once at Evan, then took a look at the locker room itself. The spikes were embedded all around the kid, and he stood there with a sheepish look on his face. "Nice," I quipped, tapping one.

"Who're you?" he asked.

"Loki Hydimen, mutant extraordinaire," I said. I pointed at the locker next to his head and a bullet of wind sliced a ragged hole into the metal. He turned, wide-eyed. "Cool, right?"

"Very. Like mine?" I nodded.

"You know, Xavier's has a good place for people to learn about their powers. You should think about it." My chest tightened as a vision of my father flashed in my mind's eye.

"I dunno. I wanna skate, you know? I've got a lot of stuff on my plate. Now's just not a good time." He had a street-talk twang in his voice, and it didn't sound terribly intelligent. He threw his towel into a bag and slung it over his shoulder. "See ya. Wouldn't wanna be ya."

I snorted and let him walk past me. "Your loss, dumbass." Miss Ororo turned hard eyes on me and I knew she'd heard my last comment.

Which meant I was in trouble...again. Damn.

She apologized for my behavior and excused us for the night, congratulating Evan again and urging him to talk to his parent's about Xavier's place. I slunk behind her, shoulders hunched and hands deep in my pockets. Climbing in the car, I tensed, ready for another wild ride.

Miss Ororo did not disappoint; in fact, I think because she was angry with me, she drove even more recklessly, just to scare me into submission.

It worked. By the time we got back to the mansion, I was a puddle of Loki-colored goo on the leather seat. She prodded me out of the car and took me to see the Professor for my bad behavior. I stood in front of his desk while Miss Ororo explained the situation.

"Well, Loki, I'm afraid you're grounded for at least a week. I have warned you time and again to watch your language and this could potentially lose a recruit for us. You know how important it is that we have as many people as possible able to help us when mutants become public knowledge."

I shrugged unapologetically, accepting my punishment like a man. I was heading back to my room after a grace period to think when Scott bounded from the other end of the hall to meet me. "We have a situation!" he said seriously.

"I'm grounded," I replied flatly. "Deal with it."

"It's that Evan kid. He's been arrested for stealing from people's school lockers."

Well, that didn't take long. He acted nonchalant, but I bet he's hiding something beneath that idiotic mask...or maybe I'm over-analyzing things again. Doesn't matter. "I have to help why?"

"Well, we're coming to bail him out. Kitty and Kurt are staying." With that, he ran off. Throwing my hands up, I shook my head and made my way back down to the garage. We all piled into the communal X-Van and took off.

Now the rest of the team understands how I felt. Miss Ororo drove again. Skidding into the police parking lot, we leaped out and ran into the station, desperate to get away from the insane woman with superpowers.

I looked through the bars, listening with half an ear as the others bargained Evan's freedom for his presence at our little school. I smirked. Looks like he's coming, just like I said. Lucky me.

The rotund officer grudgingly let out the kid, and he glared as Evan was escorted outside by us all. Just as I was about to heckle him for ending up with us anyway, I found myself face down on the ground, with dirt and garbage filling my mouth. Spitting and swearing, I stood up, glaring fiercely at everyone. "Who the hell tripped me?"

"I did," a slick and unfamiliar voice called. "Evan's fun to pick on, and so are you. Life goes so fast, I have to get my kicks somehow, right?" Pietro stepped out of the darkness, clad in some skin-tight outfit. I stifled a laugh and he turned beet red. "The name's Quicksilver, punk," he snarled. I nodded, fighting to keep a smile off my face.

"Right," I choked out. "Nice to meet you." Frowning, he blurred out of existence and I found myself flat on my back, gasping for air. It felt like a truck had run me over.

"Leave him alone, Pietro," Evan growled, letting a barrage of spikes fly from his arms. Pietro yawned and dodged them all, barely moving a fraction of an inch each time but not getting hit.

From my position on the ground, I could see Scott and Jean hiding in the darkness of the alley. They made shooing motions with their hands, and I huffed and stood up. I held my hands out and let loose a wide band of my wind, which hopefully wasn't razor-sharp.

It missed, and carved a chunk from the side of a building. I winced, and revised my plan.

Destroying main street was a bad thing.

Evan and Pietro were verbally abusing each other, and Evan broke out his skateboard and was trying to keep up with the speedster while I flung bullets of air at him. It wasn't working, and finally I sent a frustrated blast at a trash can nearby.

If I couldn't destroy big things, little things will do just as well. The dented lid skittered into the street after bouncing off the wall by Jean's head. Miss Ororo, who I just now noticed was absent, was standing guard on the roof.

She just didn't want to get involved in a teenager's spat, I'm sure.

Pietro was laughing and harassing Evan, who had peppered everywhere with his spikes. Then, quite out of the blue, Pietro tripped.

Over the trash lid, no less. I couldn't hold in my laughter and collapsed to the ground in a fit of giggles. Jean saw the opportunity she had been waiting for and lifted Pietro off the street, where he windmilled uselessly and swore.

Sirens wailed a few spaces down and an overly large amount of cruisers pulled up to arrest Pietro. "Thank you, son," one said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You helped catch the locker thief and the vandalizer of the street. Too bad you couldn't catch him before he did this much damage, though." He tipped his hat and helped stuff Pietro in a car.

Scott took one look at the gashes that littered the street and accused, "You're letting Pietro take the blame for you own destruction?"

I shrugged and ignored him. I could almost sense him gritting his teeth in frustration, and privately smirked. Score one for me.

Miss Ororo once more subjected us to the horrors of her driving. We screeched to a halt and threw the doors open, kissing the ground and promising ourselves no more rides with her. She waited until I was the last one present and said, "We're going to talk to Charles."

Again.

I sat limply in front of the Professor, who looked at me and sighed. He wheeled around the desk and tapped a finger against his cheek. "We take responsibility for our actions here, Loki," he began. "You let Pietro take the blame for your reckless destruction. You are grounded until further notice."

I gritted my teeth, nodding. I stood up stiffly, thanked him sarcastically, and had one hand on the door and a taste of freedom when he called my attention back to him.

"I thought you might like this." He held out a hand. Lying innocently in his palm was my inhaler.

It was too much. Too much change too fast. I smacked his hand away, shouted, "You're not my father!" and holed myself in my room for the rest of the weekend.

I cried the entire time. I'm man enough to admit that.


	6. Bad Decisions

**A/N:** Thank you again, demonlrd66, for reviewing. I'll admit, I didn't much like it either. If you ask, I'll redo it, because you are a valued reader and I crave your good opinion. Well, there's not a whole lot else to say. I don't own it, don't sue, you should be used to this by now. I love reviews! They give me the fuel I need to procrastinate on my physics homework and type. Read on!

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I was pissed. My entire weekend had consisted of me, cooped up in my room, cooped up in the gym getting my ass kicked by Logan, or cooped up in the Danger Room getting my ass kicked period.

I got extra sessions for blaming my mess on Pietro. They got to play outside in the pool, enjoying the unseasonably warm weather while it lasted. I mean, come on! It was early November, for crying out loud. This Indian Summer is ridiculous. I let out a snort and turned away from the window.

It wasn't fair. I was acting like a spoiled child, and I knew it. It's hard to explain, though, what really caused me to mouth off to my teacher.

Lonesome pangs. Whether I liked it or not, I missed my dad. I snuck a glance at myself in the oval mirror atop my dresser. Pointed ears, silver eyes, and was that a hint of fangs peeking from behind my lips? I wouldn't be surprised.

"Can I come in?" Kitty called. I grunted.

She phased through my door and sat down at the edge of my bed. "What's the point?" I said bitterly. "It's never going to get better. I'm getting worse."

Kitty patted my arm. "It's okay," she said. "It's confusing, and heartbreaking, and painful, but in the end, you come out better for it. Trust me." She had a thoughtful look on her face.

"It doesn't matter," I muttered. "I want to go home."

"So go home. Get your closure. Just remember, we'll be here when you need us." With that, she left me be.

That was a good idea. I'm sure Dad just freaked out because it was new. If I visited him and showed him how wrong he was, he'd take me back and this madness would end. I nodded. My mind was made up. Tomorrow, instead of school, I'd go to my house.

I didn't sleep much that night. I was really nervous. What would Dad say? Would he have a nice brunch? He liked brunches, that old fart. My alarm clock rang in my ears and I slammed the snooze button. I was going to be late for the Danger Room session, but hey. I'm going home. I won't need to know how to save my skin from those evil things when I'm a normal teenager again.

Finally, around six o'clock, Scott burst into my room. I ignored him, rolling over. "Loki, you missed the Danger Room session this morning." I fake snored loudly, drowning out his own growl of impatience. "Fine, then. You're already in enough trouble." He slammed my door shut, and I laughed silently.

After a while of enjoying the warm comfort of my bed, I crawled out from under the covers and put on my favorite shirt and jeans. I wanted to look like the son he raised by himself for ten years, not the freak I had become. After ten seconds of consideration, I left the watch on.

It's not like Xavier'll miss it. I think. I hope.

I strode downstairs, pretending the glares of my friends didn't slice me to little pieces on the inside. Sitting down at the table, I bit eagerly into an apple and was intent on devouring the things as fast as possible when Logan showed up.

"Hey, brat," he snapped. "Missed you this morning. Well, I missed kicking your sorry can from here to Michigan."

I shrugged. It wasn't any more of my business. "Whatever."

He growled, realizing just how pointless the conversation was, and stalked off. I finished breakfast in a quick bite and walked up to the foyer. From there, I made the lonely trek to the end of Xavier's stupidly long driveway and hooked right.

I was officially skipping school. How exciting.

For thirty minutes, I walked and walked and walked. Familiar landmarks stood out to me: gas station, doctor's office, stuff like that. Before I realized it, I was staring longingly at my puke-green home.

Home. With Dad.

I took a deep breath in and let it out, hoping against hope my breif control training would hold. I raised one hand and knocked on the door softly.

"Go 'way!" my father shouted.

Hmmm...he must not have had his coffee yet. It was early in the morning, after all.

"Dad? It's...it's me."

The door opened quickly and I looked at my feet.

"Son?"

I knew it! He was just surprised. He get's angry when he's surprised.

"Yeah," I said, my voice cracking. "It's me. And, and I'm normal now, okay? No more freaky eyes and ears."

Suddenly, I was seeing stars. Literally and figuratively. My winds were snapping and crackling in a fierce halo around my head. I propped myself on my elbows and spat a globule of blue blood onto the grass.

So of course it withered the grass and left a big dead spot on his perfect lawn. "I thought I made it perfectly clear I didn't want to see your face again, Loki." At least he's using my name. That's a plus.

"That's bullshit and you know it. I'm still your kid! You have no right to abandon me like that!" I shouted from my position on the ground. Spitting out another mouthful, I forced myself to stand. Tears burned at the back of my eyes. "I didn't choose this!"

"It doesn't matter! What's done is done. I don't want to see you again. Ever. Especially not wearing the face of my boy." His face was purple-red with anger and his fist was clenched, held at punching level.

"No! It does matter! I didn't ask for this! I don't deserve to be treated like this!" I screamed. The tears I had stubbornly held back now dripped down my face.

My father pulled out his other hand from behind his back. In it was the filet knife. He pointed the tip threateningly at me and snarled, "Leave my property now!"

My shoulders slumped in defeat. I raised my hands and backed away. "Put the knife down, Dad. I'm not going to hurt you."

"I am not your father. Your whore of a mother spawned you, I'm sure. She never was faithful." That struck a nerve. I paced on the sidewalk.

"Leave Mom out of this!" I said. "You're just bitter because she loved someone else more than me!"

All the color drained from his face and he slammed the door. Sniffling, I sat down and cried. Like a baby.

I wiped my nose and hiccuped. A puff of smoke from nowhere had me coughing and spluttering. I looked down at the source and saw sparks spitting from the watch. Swearing under my breath, I pulled my hood up over my ears and started walking urgently towards the gas station I passed.

The best method for dealing with heartbreak? Avoid it like the devil. When you can't, get angry at it. Right now, I didn't want to think about the possibilities that had slammed shut in my face.

I pushed the door open, keeping my eyes on the ground. I picked a pair of sunglasses off the stand at random and a Coke for good measure and handed them to the cashier. "You sure you want this, mister?" the kid said. Carefully, I snuck a glance at the eye-wear I chosen. Pink, glittery, and oversized. Perfect.

Not.

"One sec," I said and exchanged the pink monstrosity for a pair of semi-normal black ones. I paid for my items with money I had from last month's allowance from-_not thinking about him_-and left.

Sipping my fizzy drink, I wandered around the town in a daze until I heard a honk behind me.

It was Summers. Come to rub it in, no doubt. But instead of gloating about how wrong I was (he must be feeling sick or something) he gave me a tight grin and gestured for me to hop in. Once I was buckled in he said, "We've got a problem."

"No surprise," I muttered, draining the last bit of my drink and throwing it in the back seat. "Nothing ever goes normally around here."

"Kurt is stuck in some kind of middle dimension. Toad's got the thingie that did it, and we need to get it back and destroy it." Oh, great. Now we've reached a new level of weirdness. Scott drove maniaclly until we reached the school's parking lot. The kid in question, Toad, pointed a silver gizmo at the principal's car and it disappeared in a flash of light.

I blinked. Then once more. "Did that...?"

"Yes. Come on." We leaped out of the car and ran over to Toad, who spotted us and took off.

No offense toad lovers, but hopping is slow. Running full tilt had us even with him before he got ten feet. Even if he super-jumped, we were desperate. That always adds an edge to everything.

We had him pinned against the storage warehouse walls. I flung a blade of wind at him and he ducked it, gulping. "Hand it over, Toad," Scott ordered. Cringing and muttering, the kid obeyed, but not before yanking my sunglasses off and having a good look at my face. I hissed at him, baring the fangs developing in my mouth.

He skittered off. I stared at the gadget, and motioned into the building. "It could get messy."

Scott nodded and we walked in to see Rouge and Kitty having a glaring match while Jean rubbed her temples. I gave a half-hearted wave. No one noticed.

"I'm ramping it up to full power," Scott said, grabbing ahold of his glasses. "Watch out."

"Couldn't I just, like, walk through it and quietly short it out?" Kitty pointed out. I stared at her. She snorted and muttered, "Boys and their explosives."

Kurt decided to make an appearance around that time. "Reset! Don't..." His hazy image faded and everyone was left in stunned silence.

"Okay," I noted. "He said reset. I'm guessing he doesn't want us to destroy it." Scott shot a longing look at the gizmo and then nodded.

The ground suddenly had the consistency of wet sand, and I flailed around before it tossed me into a wall. Ow. Looking out from the stars that never left, I saw the Blob, the seizure-esque teen responsible for the mess, and Toad, looking nervous.

"Lance!" Kitty shouted. "Stop it!"

The new kid just pushed her aside and said, "Brotherhood, get that thing!"

Brotherhood? Never heard of it. Though, from the vibes I'm getting, it's the not-so-nice version of Xavier's. Too bad. Rouge helped me to my feet and I shook off her arm. "X-Men, stop them! Protect the gizmo!" Scott retaliated.

"Rouge, who's side are you on?" Lance bellowed.

"This ain't my fight. See you." With that, she calmly walked off. Lucky person. I aimed a punch at Toad, who took it full in the face. I advanced upon his fallen form, and he cringed. Then his eyes went wide as saucers and he gaped, pointing behind me.

I turned around to see the car Toad zapped bearing down on me, Kurt and some other guy screaming behind the wheel. I let out a scream myself and ducked.

So, when all was said and done, the warehouse was sagging on its foundations, the gizmo was fried by Scott, the 'Brotherhood' cut their losses and ran, and I stood awkwardly away from the group of people talking to Kurt and the other mutant who's name turned out to be Forge.

I turned away, hands deep in my pockets, when something tapped me on the shoulder. I was about to let loose a biting retort, but Kurt's gentle smile said everything.

"Can we go home?" I whispered, feeling my insides shrivel. This basically sealed the deal. I was done with my Dad, I said in my mind. He's done with me, so why not?

Thinking about it wasn't any less painful than it was this morning.

Kurt nodded, and we all piled in Scott's car, driving back to the one place mutants could really be accepted.

Home.


	7. Cold Sucks

**A/N:** Ah! Can someone please explain to me why writing this story is so addictive? I'm having trouble concentrating on everything else. ^_^ Oh well. Here's the next chappie, and where I need your help. I need a good codename for Loki. So far, I've come up with two. Silverwind and Tempest. Leave a review and tell me which you'd prefer. It doesn't matter to me. I don't own, yadda yadda, review please. Now read!

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There was definitely one good thing about going AWOL and coming back emotionally scarred. People left you alone! Living in a house full of teenagers with limited bathroom space, that was a revolutionary thing.

I didn't eat much. I think I failed all the Danger Room sessions as well. It's all kind of a blur. There were a lot of tears, a few awkward hugs, and a bunch of staring at the ceiling wondering what the hell went wrong.

I kept crushing the little bubble of hope I got when I thought it was a bad impression. I have to remind myself he punched me and held me at knife point, and no amount of begging and tears will make him love me again.

"Loki," Evan called, knocking loudly on my door. "It's time for the morning session. Get your butt in gear, dude!" I didn't answer. He sighed heavily. "I didn't wanna do this, man, but you leave me no choice." That caught my attention. I rolled over in my bed just in time to see a ring of spikes pierce my door. One sliced my cheek open and I wiped away the oozing blood.

That made me mad. Now, instead of a door, I had a door with a big circular hole in it, through which I could see his smirk. "EVAN!" I yelled, springing out of bed. I held my hand out and flung a dull blade at him. He ducked and it tore open the wall behind him.

Kitty let out an unholy screech and covered her chest with her shirt.

I blushed, and Evan gaped. She turned around, put her shirt on, then proceeded to phase through the wall and beat the tar out of Evan with her hair dryer. Once he was sufficiently cowed, she turned her sights on me.

I trembled as she approached. "I'm in emotional pain right now!" I offered, putting my arms over my head.

"And I'm embarrassed! Guess who wins!"

So, that's the story of how I got my ass kicked by none other than Kitty Pryde, at 4:30 in the morning.

Once she had finished pulping me, she dragged both of us down to the Danger Room. There, we proceeded to get our asses kicked by the room itself.

Scott somehow coordinated it so Kurt 'ported everyone into the control booth and conveniently left me alone while they cranked the difficulty up as high as it would go. Revenge for what I did to them a few days ago. Sons of bitches, the lot of them.

Even I know you don't retaliate a prank with the same thing. That's unoriginal.

I had reluctantly accepted the inhaler from Xavier after I returned to the mansion. He didn't question my motives. I think he knew.

He's smart like that.

So I'm running around, trying not to get the super-sunburn from the guns and not die from lack of oxygen (though I could just slit a wrist and I'd be dandy) while listening to the group laughing at my misfortune. The simulation fizzled, wavered, and changed to a rescue. Storm was the objective: get in, get out, save the D.I.D.

I was spraying the silver wind in a fine mist, leaping in and out of the laser squares as I did so. Everyone decided to join me after some careful prompting by the big guy, and Scott was following behind me. As back-up.

Why did I not feel very safe, then?

Kidding.

One last leap cleared the lasers all together and I sliced through the chain holding the cloaked Storm captive. She twisted her head towards me, and I reeled back in shock. Scott took one look and called the sim off. The holograms died with a fizzle and Xavier called from the booth, "You're only supposed to terminate the simulation if you are injured, Cyclops."

He looked off, ashamed. "How're we supposed to get her on our side if we're fighting against her in the sims, Professor?"

I glanced offhandedly at my watch and about had a heart attack. "It's quarter to seven!" I shouted, and bolted. I tore up to my room, ignoring the general chaos around me as everyone else did the same, and threw on something decent, barely remembered to pack a bag for the field trip for science, and stampeded down to the bus with Kitty, Kurt, and Evan hot on my heels.

We barely made it in time as it was. Evan was squashed next to me, and I tore three new holes in my ragged sweatshirt when my winds darted and snapped out of control. Kitty and Kurt bickered about whose fault it was we were so late. Finally, I lost it. "Just shut up, unless you want me to kill someone!"

Our little rag-tag bunch got very silent. With a creaking of brakes, we arrived at the school. I leaped out, breathing a sigh of relief. "Hey! Loki!"

It was Paul. He was waving me over, where the snowmobiles were. I grinned and dropped my pack on the ground. Grunting, we managed to push one into the back of the trailer with a bit of elbow grease and a ramp, and I fell on my butt.

"How many of those do we have?" I whined. Paul laughed and helped me stand, patting my back.

"I feel for ya, man, I really do, but Teach says, and what Teach says, we do," he apologized. I nodded, and we heaved another one onto the carrier.

Voices echoed somewhere behind me, and I focused on it as we struggled to get in a third. It was Scott and Jean, talking about the sim this morning. "We can't use Rouge as the enemy anymore. It's wrong. Surprises or no surprises, it's cruel." Jean said something I didn't catch, because Paul was talking to me.

The effect was I didn't hear either one of them. "Hmm?"

Paul nodded towards Jean. "She's not coming. Too many absences. The new chick's coming instead." Jean wasn't coming? Who was I going to stare at when I tuned out the lecture sure to happen? Rouge? No. Ew.

Teach arrived, and we all packed up on the bus. True to Paul's rumors, Jean wasn't allowed, and Rouge climbed on instead. Actually, Paul had disappeared for about ten minutes, then come back looking a little too cheerful. Strange.

The bus's engine rumbled beneath us, and we were off. I was sitting next to Paul, who had taken a sort-of friendship up with me sometime in November. It was really gradual; I didn't even realize what was happening until it happened. Instead of talking, I stared out the window. Winding our way up the mountain, it began to get progressively colder, until no one could see more than two inches in front of them.

Driver included.

I felt really slow and sluggish. I knew there was a reason I hated cold.

"We're going to unpack the snowmobiles and head up to the cave to wait out the blizzard," Teach said, much to my chagrin. At least it was sort of warm in the bus.

I didn't help unload them this time, I was too busy keeping my eyes open and not falling face first into the snow. Scott came up next to me, concerned. "You okay?"

"Som'tin 'bout cold," I slurred. "Can'...can' focus. Can' move. No wind." It was true. The wind, normally ever present, was absent.

Paul tugged me onto the back of his vehicle, and I clung to his back, fighting off unconsciousness. This wasn't good. Something was going very, very badly on the inside. My thoughts were fluttering around in my head like snowflakes.

Purple gummy bears would look nice, wouldn't they? I think so.

Paul somehow coaxed the thing to go faster. We were racing Scott and Duncan, having left Teach in the dust a while ago. Paul surged forward, taking the lead, and sprayed Cyclops with a sharp turn. We skidded into the mouth of the cave well ahead of everyone else.

Paul hopped off gracefully; I tumbled off and was lucky not to crack open my skull. I curled into a little ball against a wall, waiting with chattering teeth for the rest of the bus to arrive. It was not much longer before the roar of the engines echoed around the cave and the class walked in, a blob of color and noise. I blinked slowly.

Once everyone was settled in for the most part, Teach started a lesson about the type of rock the cave was made of. I hardly listened at all. Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned to it, slowly. It was Paul.

"I say we ditch Teach and go exploring," he whispered mischievously.

Okay. Seemed safe enough. I swallowed, forced my unresponsive limbs to cooperate, and murmured, "Lead the way."

Teach was gesturing enthusiastically when I last looked, and we crept off deeper into the hole. Stalagmites and stalactites were everywhere, dripping water, and my breath sparkled in the freezing temperatures.

So that's where my wind is. My breath. Hope it doesn't smell bad.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and sat down near a ledge. "Sorry," I said flatly. "It's just, 'm really c-cold."

Paul smirked in a very un-Paul like way and something sparked to life in my fuzzed over brain. "I know," he purred, then his face, like, melted or something and Principal Darkholme stood there. My brows furrowed and I cocked my head. She huffed impatiently and blurred into a blue lady.

I bet she was colder than me in that outfit. She strode up to me, swinging her hips, and I weakly tried to blast her back. A faint glimmer of silver was the reward I got for all my efforts. She smirked, and lifted me up by my coat collar. "'M confused," I groaned, grabbing her wrist in a feeble attempt to buy myself some time.

"I am Mystique," she said simply. "And you are a nuisance." She took a few steps forward and I felt a breeze wafting up from below my feet. I was hanging over the ledge.

Oh my god, I was hanging over the ledge! I thrashed around, trying to swing myself back onto the stable ground. She didn't even budge.

Though she did twitch slightly when Scott blasted the wall next to her head. "Summers," I moaned. "Not by her head, dolt! She'll drop me!"

Someone next to him said, "And that would be a bad thing?" Oh, it's Miss Accent. How I missed you. Mystique loosened her hold on my collar and I tried to hold on. Scott approached slowly, hands in a neutral position.

"Give him to me," he said. "We'll leave you alone, Mystique." Was I the only one who'd never met this crazy bitch? I think so, honestly. I feel so left out of the loop. The blue woman snorted and threw me easily into Scott's arms. He grunted and took a step back.

Then, because Fate has not yet fulfilled her daily amount of torture for me, Mystique darted over and pushed us both off the ledge. We tumbled over and around in the void. I screamed while Scott tried to find something to grab onto. He managed to hook one hand around an outcrop of rock. I wasn't so lucky.

I landed on my leg, hard. It snapped like a toothpick, the sound echoing up to filter into Rouge's ears. I howled in pain as I spotted the bone poking out of my shin and the eaten away patch growing bigger by the second on my pants. Scott looked down at me with a concerned expression on his face.

You'd think he'd be yelling in concern instead of looking at me, but no. He's too focused on making sure he didn't fall and break his leg too. Lucky bastard.

"How could you!" Rouge shouted from up above. "You lied to me! You tricked me!" Even I, insensitive jerk number uno, could hear the pain wracking her voice. I closed my eyes, breathing raggedly.

This was not the wake-up call I wanted. Peering upwards through slitted eyelids, I saw Mystique grab a hold of Scott's arm and fall down easily to the ledge I was laying on. Mystique morphed into Rouge and I shimmied away from her, baring my teeth like a wounded animal. A good-sized rock bounced off my temple and everything blurred for a bit.

Next thing I know, I'm six feet under in this really cold river that was under us the whole time, hidden by the darkness. I started paddling and kicking but my clothes were weighing me down and one leg was completely numb. Through the muddy water, I could barely make out a hand, and I grabbed at it desperately. I was yanked roughly out of the water by Scott.

I was trembling more than before, if that was possible, and I turned away and splashed breakfast all down the waterfall we narrowly avoided getting tossed through. Actually, we were underneath the waterfall on a skinny little outcrop of rock. Scott was lying down, practically comatose. "I'm sorry for the sims, Rouge," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry too, Scott," Rouge says back. I feel like an eavesdropper, but the space thing is severly limited. "I know the truth now. I'm sorry I doubted y'all." I snorted, though it took all my strength to do so. A really loud crack shuddered through the cold air, and I looked wearily at her as she cradled Scott's head.

When the rock crumbled beneath us, I didn't even scream. That would have taken too much effort. Instead, when we landed on the snowy bridge, I settled for groaning and thanking my lucky stars I couldn't feel anything below the neck, which in other circumstances would be a bad thing but now was very appreciated.

I heard a low growl from somewhere behind me and I twisted around. It was a wolf. Of course. Scott's beams lanced past my head, but as far as I knew, Scott was down for the count. I turned again to see Rouge with creepy glowy eyes. Maybe I'm being delusional again.

Wouldn't surprise you, would it? Me either.

She blasted the wolf back again, then let out a gasp and sank to her knees. "Bad doggie?" I whispered. It growled again, baring its teeth. It leaped, and everything went black.

* * *

I woke up groaning, warm, and very much in pain in the resident jet. I was strapped on one of those board things and my leg had a splint on it. "Whazzat?" I mumbled.

Scott's face floated up from somewhere and said, "He's awake!"

After a few hot drinks and a slap or two, I was no longer loopy. "What happened?" I demanded. "When did we get on the Blackbird? I'm so lost."

Logan twirled around from the pilot's seat, and Miss Ororo came too. "What happened, bub, was you destroyed half the mountain while you were unconscious. Scott woke up when Rouge started screamin' and fired off a signal. We scooped you up and here you are."

Wait a second. "I nearly destroyed half the mountain?" I said, confused. If I could have scratched my head, I would have. "But my winds are small. And it was cold out."

Miss Ororo smiled gently. "I knew when we first started control training. New mutants often put unconscious barriers that supersede with their normal power level. It's an acceptance thing. When you were knocked out, your fight instinct flared up and you used your true power to remove the threat. Though you didn't kill Mystique, I'm sure she has more than just a wounded ego at the moment."

Oh. Well then.

So, as if life couldn't get any weirder, Fate throws me a curve ball. Again.

Stupid bitch.


	8. Aw, Not Again

**A/N:** Hey. Nothing to say. I consulted my official tiebreaker and the winner is Tempest. ^_^ Remember, I don't own it, don't sue, and pretty please leave a review. This turned out to be a personal favorite, if only for the middle and end. And I did add in a better explanation for the ending of the last chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

After that lovely brush with hypothermia, the Professor gave me permission to skip school and recover for a day. The only bad news: he wanted me to talk to a shrink. 'It's standard procedure,' he said. 'Everyone has done it.'

Riiiight. Like I'm going to believe Mr. Perfect-Golden-Boy Summers and Miss Amazing-At-Everything Jean went through counseling? I doubt it. And is he making Rouge do it, now that she's an X-Man-in-training? Again, I'm feeling some serious doubts.

Then, of course, he resorted to bribery. "I will get someone to teach you how to drive," Xavier offered. I was snuggled deeply into about five thousand blankets in the rec room, enjoying some time to catch up on the homework I never did and feel comfortable for once.

I shrugged. "Alright. When's the appointment?"

"Now. I have several degrees in psychology and psychiatry." What!?

"Um," I hedged, then leaped out of the blanket-mound and took off at a dead sprint to my rooms. I got there just in time to avoid a breathing attack and slammed the door shut.

Then I remembered I hadn't fixed the hole Evan had made and Xavier was a telepath so it wouldn't matter where I hid. I sat with my back to the door and thought, as loudly as possible, The Song That Never Ends.

Xavier left me alone for the rest of the day. I only left my room for dinner, then went straight back and hid in the crevice between the bed and the wall until nighttime.

At which point I fell asleep, and woke up in the most uncomfortable position ever. My leg was by my face and my arm was behind my head and all sorts of places hurt like hell. I was half-awake when the alarm went off and thrashed around, thinking someone was trying to kill me. The end result was me, wide awake, in my completely trashed bedroom.

My crankiness affected the exercise in the Danger Room. It was Rouge's first time, and, well, I got a little...snappish with her. Then she slugged me so hard, I flew across the room and made a lovely Loki-shaped dent in the metal wall.

No, I'm not kidding.

I was nursing a shiner and a bruised ego when we got to school later on. The image inducer hid my black eye, but it didn't make me see any better.

I closed my locker with an unnecessary amount of force and spun to my right, eager to get the day over with. I ran smack into someone and both our books went flying everywhere. I went down on my hands and knees, apologizing profusely, until my hand brushed hers.

I lifted my eyes from the ground and caught hers. They were a lovely shade of chocolate brown...and her hair was short, and curled slightly. It gave her the effect of looking like she had just gotten out of bed.

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry," she said, blushing slightly. She gathered the rest of her papers and stood. I did the same, gaping slightly. There was an awkward pause until she held out her hand and said, "I'm Grace. Are you interested in auditioning for the play _Dracula_?"

I shook my head and her hand. "I'm Loki," I said. "Not very graceful, are you?" She giggled, smoothing her sweatshirt down.

"No," she replied, looking wistful. I snuck a look at her feet: they were clad in this huge pair of black combat boots. Camo pants rounded out the whole ensemble. "Well," Grace said after a moment. "I'll see you later, I guess." Biting her lip, she walked quickly away.

"Wow," I said.

"Wow, indeed," Evan said. I could hear the smirk in his voice. I whirled on him, furious, and found him grinning cockily with a video camera in his hands. I dived at him, making a grab for it.

"Give - me - that!" I shouted.

"No can do, bro," he sing-songed. "It's for a project. Now everyone will know about you making goo-goo eyes at Lacie!"

I let out a growl and swiped at the camera again. "It's Grace, dimwit!" I yelled. Then, because life hates me, none other than Scott, the leader of our little team, came and gave me extra sessions, because he can and we're out of the Professor's range.

I spent the rest of the day in sullen silence, watching while Evan went around and took a peek at his housemates' school lives. Not even seeing Grace chatting with her friends, a psychotic looking short one and a well muscled sports girl, could cheer me up.

Once everyone was back at the mansion, I was subjected to a session with Logan. That involved a lot of running, compulsive fighting, and hide-and-go-seek. I sprinted through the woods as fast as I could. When I figured I was far enough in, I skittered up a tree, leaping from the thicker branches to trees parallel. I stopped to take a puff, then continued on my mad dash.

I sequestered myself in a knothole, praying I was deep enough in he wouldn't find me. The rules: keep him looking for longer than your best time. You fail, keep trying. You succeed, you're done for the day.

I was fairly close to the edge of the woods, and lucky me, heard sounds of a scuffle. I peeked my head out of the knothole enough to catch Evan being thrown across the yard and some lumbering tower of muscle mutter something and bound off. That was weird.

I turned my head back the other way and scrunched myself deeper into the hole. Ten seconds later, Logan was in my face, yelling at me. "That was pathetic! You lasted forty-seven seconds!" Hey, that's three better than my last time.

"But it's better than last time's, so I'm good."

"Damn rules," he grumbled, and yanked me out of the tree. I landed on my face, and shoved myself to my feet. I spat out a leaf, and stalked back into the house. Hot shower, wait for meeee!

My hopes, sadly, were dashed, because Jean was taking her sweet time in the bathroom. Then, Evan came bounding forth from the pits of hell to harass her and make my precious bathroom time look less and less likely to happen. She screeched indignantly and slammed the door shut.

Miss Ororo heard all the commotion, apparently, and came to break up any fights. There were none, but I was holding myself back, thinking of this morning with Rouge. They're right when they say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. They pack one hell of a right hook, too.

She gestured to me and Evan, and both of us trailed behind her...straight into Xavier's office. I winced, remembering yesterday. I hope he doesn't remember.

He gave me a look that clearly said, 'I do,' and I sank back further into my seat. "We have been discussing it, Loki, Evan, and we have decided several things. First, Evan, we will need to delete any material that shows our other involvements." Evan nodded. "You can go." Scowling, the blond kid shoved his chair away and stomped out, clearly pissed he wasn't part of the loop. I smirked at his back.

"Ahem." Smiling sheepishly, I turned to face Miss Ororo. "We've decided on a codename for you. On missions, you will be known to your team as Tempest." I nodded. At least it wasn't something stupid...like Fly-Boy.

Xavier cut in smoothly. "We want to make sure you know what happened on the mountain." Oh. That again.

"Shoot," I said, and propped my feet up on Evan's chair.

"After reading Rouge's memory, we have discovered that you have indeed placed a large amount of blocks on your own power. According to her, as soon as she fell down from using too much power, you went completely limp then 'stood up, like a possessed man, and used the wind from the blizzard to make this great silver blade thing, and sliced off the bridge and half the mountain'. Her exact words."

"Oh." My voice was very small. The biggest wind I'd controlled to my knowledge was the blunt one with the whole Pietro episode...

"We have also figured out why you were so adversely affected by the cold." I perked right up. "To put it simply, liquid oxygen by itself is naturally colder than the record lows held in Bayville. It has adjusted to your body, so all you feel is relatively chilled all the time. When you went into the cold, it lowered the cold in you to dangerous levels."

I was very confused. Storm sighed, and held one hand at waist level and another at eye level. Then she moved them until they were both at neck level. "High is normal temperature, low is liquid oxygen. Middle is your body, a relative equal." She separated them again, but made the effort to look like the lower hand was about knee level. "When you're in the cold, the equilibrium level is too low for you to function correctly."

That made loads more sense. "So, no going to the Arctic anytime soon?" I joked. They didn't laugh. I guess it was more serious than I was willing to believe. I didn't want to think how close I had come to dying, after the cold and the water.

I walked out in a daze, then let my feet lead me where they would. Blocks on my power, freaky blood, no more cold. It was all so much stranger than being told I was a mutant.

Why is everything so complicated?

Something whizzed dangerously close to my ear, and Evan grabbed my arm and shouted, "Run!"

I yanked my arm out of his grip and was about to snark back when something collided with the back of my head. I've been getting hit there a lot, haven't I?

I vaguely heard Evan shouting, and Logan as well, and felt myself being flung over someone's thick and musty-smelling shoulder.

Everything faded.

* * *

I came to slowly. Pain smacked me straight in the face, and in a desperate attempt to get help, I inhaled and screamed.

Or tried to. What came out was a pitiful wheezing noise. I tried to reach up to my throat to see what was wrong, but of course, I was bound.

Why does all the bad shit happen to me? You never see anyone like Kurt or Kitty getting mauled.

Large cat-like eyes filled my line of sight and I recoiled. The man...thing...cat...whatever, he meow-laughed (only in a deep, menacing way) and gestured back and forth.

Back in the woods. Oh joy. This time, I'm sure, Logan won't be finding me in forty seven seconds. "My name is Sabertooth," the man said. He dragged one blackened nail across my throat. "Quite a surprise, you are. Your blood ate right through the ropes, but your shirt made a decent bandage. What's left of it is still there."

I wheezed angrily at him. Bastard! What did I ever do you?

He laughed that strange laugh again, and grinned. "No worries. It'll heal in maybe three or four weeks. I made sure to only scratch it. Oh, how it vibrated when you screamed..." He trailed off, a sick look of pleasure on his face. "You're bait. Stay here." He chuckled at his own joke and leaped off into the bushes.

At least it was still light out. That was a plus. I fought weakly at the bindings as I heard people. We couldn't be that far off if I'm hearing Evan, Kitty, and Rouge talking about his stupid video project.

Then, the light went on. Duh. Really sharp silver winds, I don't need to stand and struggle. I wiggled my fingers and the steel cable came loose from around my torso. I staggered through the bushes, and came to a halt by a boom-box, which was nestled in the roots of a tree.

Rouge and Kitty stared at me in shock, while Evan knelt down beside me. "You okay, man?" he asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I gestured furiously at the blood covering my chest and the torn remains of my shirt around my throat. No, I was obviously not okay, dumbass!

Sabertooth growled from the bushes I had come through and leaped out, fangs bared. I hissed at him, flinging a blade at him. He simply danced fluidly around it and dived for Evan. Grabbing the kid, he lifted him over his head, when the brat popped his spikes.

"Gotta be sharp when playing with Spyke!" he shouted. Sabertooth tossed him over his shoulder and barreled on all fours towards Kitty.

"I'll just take you, then," he growled. Kitty just stood there, and let him run right through her. She smirked, but her eyes were as wide as saucers when he did a complete 360 and smacked her into the tree...or, since I was in the way, straight into my arms. She moaned, and fell limp.

Crap. What was Evan thinking? Setting up some stupid rescue for me...actually, I'm kind of touched. But it was still a stupid thing.

I saw Rouge try and sneak up behind him, but he whirled around after dispatching Spyke again and held her arms in one meaty paw. "Nice try, girlie," he said, smirking.

I heard rustling and I turned my head. Lo and behold, leaping from the underbrush like a skilled jungle native, it was...Tarzan! Kidding. It was Logan. He had the ugliest scowl on his face as he tackled the taller man to the ground. I was silently cheering while trying not to faint from the waves of pain wracking my body. Kitty stirred slightly, and I slapped her to get her to wake up.

Kitty didn't respond, though if she did, it would have involved retaliation, I'm sure.

Rouge snuck up from behind the wrestling adults and tapped Sabertooth on the arm. She grew fur all over her body and a matching pair of nails and teeth to go with it. Sabertooth fell down, responseless, with a thump.

Everything was a haze of aching pain, centered around my throat. Logan hefted me into his arms and slung Kitty over one shoulder, while Rouge bounded behind us.

"Aw, and I just shaved last night, too," she groused when we arrived at the mansion. Not that we were far from it in the first place.

I was spirited off into the medbay while the adults 'took care' of Sabertooth. Damn straight.

After losing about an hour to my meds, the crew came down to see if the rumors were true. I had been given a magnetic drawing board to communicate.

Sucks for me and them. Being a messy lefty isn't good for anyone.

Xavier flipped through the medical chart and sighed. "Well, he was clean about it, that's for sure. He must have done it fast enough he was minimally harmed by your blood. It should take about four weeks for you to be fully healed."

Why me? I scribbled hastily.

Logan snorted. "Creed's got no problems hurtin' kids, least of all kids here at the Institute."

I rolled my eyes. Joy.

Evan bounced in, trailing a bundle of wires which he connected to his camera. I about jumped out of the bed right there and sucker punched him. He grinned cheekily and pressed the power button.

Images of everyone at school hanging out flashed by, while Evan's voice narrated the entire time. I saw myself blushing nervously while talking to Grace, drooling in Math pretending to pay attention, and me tripping on the bus stairs getting off at the mansion.

Everyone had their fair amount of screen time. The credits rolled, and everyone, including me, clapped appreciatively. Though I will admit I did so a little more grudgingly than everyone else.

What a life, no?


	9. Teamwork, Smeamwork

**A/N:** Oh, the joys of being sick. I had a really weird dream last night from something, but it's too disjointed to tell you. ^_ Well, here's the next chapter! Hope everyone enjoys it. I liked writing it. Remember, I don't own it, so you aren't allowed to sue me. At all. Also, I love reviews. They make me smile and not feel so top-heavy. Damn sinuses.

* * *

It was happening again.

I was running. Silver branches sliced my face to ribbons, but I paid them no mind. I could hear Sabertooth behind me, growling animalistically, as the same branches that hit me bent out of the way for him.

I tried to scream but all that came out was a fountain of blood, and a whisper. I still couldn't talk.

I turned to see if the man was still behind me, and found nothing. I spun in a circle, confused, and he dropped on me from below. Bones snapped like twigs, and I vomited more blood onto my captor. Instead of being disgusted, he licked it off his fingers.

His face suddenly morphed into my father's. Dad smiled devilishly down at me and plunged the filet knife deep into my throat.

I woke up screaming...well, trying too. Sweat pasted my sheets to my torso and I flung them back, scrubbing at the tears falling relentlessly down my cheeks. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale...is it time for my pill yet? I'm such an addict.

Someone knocked on my door and I knocked back on the wall.

Surprisingly enough, everyone has adjusted to my inability to speak. I still think it sucks, though.

Another day, another ass-whooping by that dumb machine. This time, we were in a wooded forest, trying to outrun Logan and Storm.

Guess who panicked and gave up? Me, you're right!

The nightmares were affecting me more than I'd like to admit. I steadfastly refused to see my shrink (even if it was the Professor), and I'm sure he'd be on my ass in a second, psychoanalyzing me and putting me on a bunch of pills.

Not like I'm not on a few already.

Once that particular failure of a sim was over, we were just about to go get ready for school when the Prof himself held everyone up. "Students," he began in an authoritative tone. "I'm giving you a choice. Today will be survival training. You can either operate under Logan or the man in charge of a camp on the outskirts, one Sgt. Hawk."

It was unanimous, as well as all together. "Sgt. Hawk!"

Logan scowled and grumbled, "I think they should've just been left to me."

I pulled out my new dry erase board and scrawled, With Hawk, we have a better chance of surviving.

Kurt nodded. "He has a point."

With that, we were excused to pack a bag. Still slightly frazzled from the fiasco of my mostly sleepless night, I changed into a pair of shirts and tried to put my pants on my upper body. While stumbling around trying to force my head though one leg, I thumped myself on my nightstand. Now I have bruises on my shins to go with my lovely scar.

I met everyone else down in the foyer where we boarded the bus in near silence. I got stuck sitting next to Rouge, of all people, and we had a brief glare war before I won possession of the window seat.

I very subtley nudged her with my elbow. She didn't react, instead opting to continue sleeping. I nudged her harder, and looked away. She growled at me and snapped, "If you got something to say, say it. Don't bug me."

I grinned cheekily and pointed at the impressive scar marring my throat. Can't say anything, I wrote. She gritted her teeth and turned her head away from me.

After that humorous interlude, we pulled up and exited our vehicle, making sure all carry-on bags were within our possession and no one was dead yet. I was just taking a precursory stretch when I caught sight of no one I wanted to see.

It was the Brotherhood. Again. Pietro was glaring at Evan, who was glaring right back, Lance and Blob were making goo-goo eyes at Kitty and Jean, respectively, and Toad...well, he was kind of hopping around, chasing a bug or something. Scott noticed as well and said, "What's the meaning of this?"

A bushy-faced man strode up, sneering at both groups. That'd be Hawk, I'm thinking. From his paunch, I'm also guessing he's a bit past his prime. But it's no big deal. He glared at everyone of us, personally, making sure we were good and intimidated. "They signed up too, worm," he growled at Scott. "Deal with it."

Great. He's an asshole, too.

"You will pick one person on your team to be your team leader!" he barked. "One person who is strategic, intelligent, and scholarly!" Well, I'm out. Scott bit his lip, looking around, and when we all nodded our consent, he stepped forward.

"I will be leader," Scott said. After a moment's hesitation and a bit of a silent fight, Lance stepped forward as well.

"Good. Now, drop and give me one hundred!"

This is going to be fun. Not.

After that, he made everyone run around the camp ten times for another 'warm-up'. God, and I thought Xavier's training was bad! This guy is trying to kill us. About three times a lap I was puffing away, though inconspicuously. At least, it was inconspicuous until Pietro called me out and Hawk got in my face for using drugs.

It's an inhaler, I wrote furiously. I need it!

"Hmph," he snorted. "Right. Give it, and get back to running!" I threw it in his face and resumed jogging at a painstakingly slow pace. Pietro whizzed past me again and again, smirking. Finally, I closed one eye and stuck out one foot. Pietro went sprawling to the ground. He shot to his feet, pissed as hell.

"Hawk, he tripped me!" Pietro accused, pointing a finger in my direction.

Hawk scowled darkly at me. "One hundred more push-ups!" he screeched.

How much longer do I have to stand this torture!?

After everyone finished (including me; I had to restart after the tripping episode) we had an activity to do. Finger paints? Not so lucky. It was river rafting. Us against them. First one to the finish line won.

I was with Scott in a raft, paddling furiously against Lance, who had insisted he could take us both by himself. He paused in his own paddling, his eyes rolling up in their sockets, and the world began to shake. "Cheater!" Scott hissed. He looked around, uncertain, and lowed his glasses a fraction. The red beams blasted out and knocked into Lance, who flew out of his raft.

I crooked one finger at the rubber contraption and punctured it quickly. It jerked forward, made a weird squiggly line, and crashed straight into te banks of the river. We sailed easily past the rope and I flexed my arms, grinning. We climbed out of the raft and Jean strode forward angrily. "What is wrong with you?" she snapped, hands on her hips. "We're not supposed to use our powers here. You should know that , Scott!"

I shrugged and Scott snarled, "Oh, you'll scold me for using my powers, but you won't even try with the Brotherhood?"

"We're the good guys! We're setting the example, here!"

The redhead threw her hands into the air. "I can't believe you, of all people, would let the competition go to your head. Do whatever you want. I want no part of it." She walked off somewhere; Kurt and Kitty stared questioningly at us and I rolled my eyes.

"That was pathetic!" Hawk shouted. "More push-ups!"

Groaning silently, we all hunkered down and obeyed. While we all labored, he paced back and forth in front of us. "Time for another competition. You need to get the flag from the top of Mt. Humiliation-"

Pietro hissed, "I can run and get it quickly before those X-Dorks even know I'm gone."

"Not if I get there first," Kurt muttered back, glaring.

Hawk continued on, oblivious. "-but you need to do it as a team." Everyone started shouting their objections at once, clamoring for his attention. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. This...promises some bad things in the future. Wish I had Evan's camera. Can anyone say...blackmail?

I squeezed into those weird ball crusher things rock climbers wear, wincing. Scott looked at me, and I could tell he thought I was in pain.

Buddy, I've learned to live with it. You need to learn to take that stick out of your ass on more than the occasional holiday.

"Ready?" he said. Lance crossed his arms.

"We're not helping you," he said flatly. "We're going to beat you just to prove Hawk wrong."

"Fine," Scott retorted and gestured for the team to follow. Everyone started climbing behind Cyclops, using the holds he had tested. That way, if he fell, we'd know which ones not to use.

I looked down behind me and turned my head back quickly. Even half-way up this stupid mountain, I'm getting dizzy. But, in my brief glimpse, I'd gotten all the info I needed. I paused a moment and wrote in big letters, Blob is pulling them up the mountain.

Scott grimaced and started heaving himself faster. "Come on, they're using their powers! They're going to beat us!"

Evan puffed, "Aren't - we supposed - to be working - together?" He grabbed hold of a rock and it disentigrated in his hand. His face screamed 'Oh shit!' as he windmilled and fired a spike blindly at the rock face. I reached out a hand, but it was in vain: he was out of reach in an instant.

Evan's fall was halted by Jean, who stretched her hand out. Telekinesis: what a beautiful thing. She brought him back onto a ledge and he smiled greatfully. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Scott nodded, thinking. This can't be good. "Can you levitate us to the top?"

Jean gritted her teeth and shook her head. "I did that because Evan needed help. There's a difference."

"I don't see a difference. We need help, too, help beating the Brotherhood!"

She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and resumed climbing. "A real X-Man would know the difference!"

I nodded solemnly. She has a point, Scott, I penned. He snorted and followed behind Jean hastily.

A brief tremor raced through the mountain, then a bigger one. Almost at the same time, Rouge called out from somewhere behind us, "The Brotherhood've gotten themselves trapped in an old mine shaft. We should probably help them."

Scott cast a longing glance at the top of the mountain, and I made shooing motions back down. Kitty popped her gum loudly and said, "Well, leader? Let's do this thing."

Our little rag-tag bunch skittered right back down the mountain and Kurt 'ported the bad mutants right out onto the ledge we were stationed on. Lucky for us he could see down there, lucky for them he didn't abandon them on some remote mountain top.

Then, because life can't get any weirder at this point, the air in front of us shimmered and became the Blackbird. I yawned, tucking my board under one arm and remembering to ask the Professor for another inhaler after that jerk Hawk confiscated mine. I leaped into the open hatch and mad my way forward, buckling myself into a spare seat.

"You don't seem terribly surprised by our appearance," Storm noted. I shrugged.

Would you rather me act like a fool? I asked. Turning around, I wiped off the previous comment and scribbled down angrily, They're coming too? Why?

"At this point, Tempest, we need all the manpower we can get," Storm said fiercely as she pulled the jet around in a sharp turn and blasted off for the mansion.

Watching the fluffy clouds rush past the cockpit, something came to me abruptly. We never did get the flag all together.

Does that mean we fail? Damn. That's one valiant dream crushed.

Ah, the glories of sarcasm.

However, I digress. Storm set the Blackbird down and we all unbuckled, running behind her straight to the Danger Room. Son of a bitch, can't we just make the stupid thing go away? I guess not. Twice a day isn't enough.

Wolverine met us in the big shiny room. "Charles' locked himself in the control booth along with Mystique, an' Juggernaut's just been tearing the place to pieces, trying to get to them." Unsheathing his claws, he turned and charged while I stood there, confused. Juggernaut? Who was that?

I found out very quickly when a hulking tower of muscle covered in red let out a hoarse battle cry and charged right at me. I leaped out of the way and tucked into a roll. I'm just going to go offhandedly and say...that's the guy we're looking for.

Xavier's voice boomed out from the booth. "Remove his helmet! I can subdue him with my powers!"

Oh, remove the dome thing covering his entire head? Sure, Professor, just let me rebuild Rome in one day first.

Scott pulled all the teenagers in the room into a huddle. After a fast moment of conversing, we all nodded. We had a plan.

I rushed at him, flinging blades of wind at him. Cuts and small gashes opened up on his arms and legs but he didn't pause once in his mad dash to nowhere. Jean threw her hand out and the man slowed slightly, as if he were jogging through molasses.

It didn't last long, but it was a distraction nonetheless. Kurt 'ported on top of his head and unlatched two hinges before being batted away like a fly. The Blob, angered at our lack of inclusion, ran headlong into the Juggernaut while Lance opened a crack to trip him up.

Evan came roaring up, pulled on his skateboard by none other than Pietro, of all people, and flicked another latch up.

Pieces of rubble were strewn across the remains of the Danger Room and the Juggernaut began tossing the chunks of steel around like they were no more than flower petals. Growling in anger, he let out another battle cry and was about to run up the wall when I blasted him back.

I held out one hand in an inviting gesture, enraging him further while Kitty phased herself and Rouge out of the wall and unhooked the last latch. I made a slashing motion and the helmet we worked so hard to get off this insane bastard's head flew right off his square little head and bounced to a stop ten meters away.

I grinned and waved night-night as the Juggernaut slumped to the floor, unconscious. Xavier and Mystique emerged from the station of command, and they looked around at the destruction. I turned slightly and saw Logan and Miss Ororo staring at us with small smiles.

Jerks. They let us fight alone. Again!

"I am very proud of you all," Xavier began. "Working together like this is what we were meant to do." Before he could go any further with his impressive oratory masterpiece, Mystique snorted and interrupted.

"Come on," she growled at the Brotherhood. "Let's get going before we're invited to a slumber party."

Stifling a silent giggle, I watched them leave and felt my good mood returning.

So what if we failed the training today? We stopped the bad guy and rescued the head honcho.

I deserve a medal, or something. That'd win over the ladies...maybe Grace likes hero types...

Xavier sighed and dismissed us. As I was following the group, he stopped me. "We will be discussing your nightmares tomorrow."

I froze.

Good mood gone. Hello, cranky-as-a-PMSing-teenager Loki!

Tomorrow will come too soon, I just know it.


	10. For Once It's Not My Problem

**A/N:** Hey! Guess what I hate? You're right! Standardized testing! My poor hand feels like it's about to fall off...write an essay in thirty minutes my ass. Well, I'd like to thank all my reviewers, even the one I deleted. I appreciate the fact you don't like my story but no one forced you to read all nine chapters. If you're reading now (and you know who you are) at least I can spell. Give me credit for that, at least. ^_^ You know the drill. By the way, I'm going episode to episode. If you were curious. (I'm waiting for the big Sentinel battle. Man, it's going to be fun torturing Loki when his secret is blown!) Now, read on!

* * *

Why me?

"How long have you been having these nightmares?"

What did I ever do to deserve this?

"Loki, you don't need to pretend you can't talk any more. Your throat is completely healed."

Yeah, well, screw you, bald man.

Xavier sighed, rubbing his temples. I straightened from my slumped position in his office chair, ready to bound out the door. "You've been avoiding me for over a week."

"Yeah, well, you're not the easiest guy to approach," I snapped, then shrank back. Hmmm...maybe I do need more sleep. Normally I'm such a fun-loving bundle of sunshine, and now? I'm reduced to paranoia and yelling at the guy currently housing me. Hot damn.

"Who would you prefer to talk to?" Xavier pressed. I gotta hand it to him. This guy's persistent.

"No one. Why don't you just pick over my brain and tell me what's wrong?" I snarled bitterly. Xavier shook his head and sighed.

Just as he was about to reprimand me for the ten millionth time about that particular response, a scream sliced through the early morning air.

It was before the DR session. Why am I up this early talking with the Professor? Let's just say the nightmares are getting a titch more frequent. The image inducer is hiding my bags okay but we're essentially told to shut 'em off when we get home, so...people talk.

I scrambled out of his office, Wheelchair Man hot on my heels. I bounced off a few walls and pulled short when I saw where I was headed. The girls wing. I shuddered and covered my eyes. "Please let them have clothes on, please let them have clothes on..." I knocked on the door hesitantly and was abruptly pulled through, landing on Kitty's bed. Jean and Kurt were already in there, staring at me balefully.

It was Rouge, screaming and reaching out for something in her sleep. Weird. I covered my hand in a sheet and shook her fiercely. She shot straight up in bed, panting harshly. "That was...he...why...?" Xavier got the door open and rolled in, laying a comforting hand on her.

"Let's go to the library and talk. You too, Jean, Loki, Kurt." He puttered out and we followed, trudging along silently.

Everyone fell into a chair as Rouge positioned herself in front of Xavier. He put his hands next to her ears and closed his eyes. Silence permeated the air as he scanned the dream. Finally after a moment he pulled back and said, "You were having a dream about a repressed memory. Someone you absorbed knows about Kurt's past."

Kurt's mouth fell open. "What if they're my memories, Professor?" he said excitedly. "Read my mind next!"

Bet the Prof feels like a carnie fortune teller. Me next! Me next!

"Not today, Kurt. It is just about time for the Danger Room exercise, so run along. We'll talk about this later."

We all slunk off to get into uniform.

Oh, I got one too. It's really nice. Except it's made of leather and makes me look fat. It's a big body suit thing...all black. Pretty standard.

Mine's got a built in electric blanket thing, though. That's nice. I might just keep it on until spring comes a'knocking.

We ran around, chickens at the slaughter, getting picked off by these sim-snakes that were as big as a skyscraper. I hate jungle sims. I blasted one to guts and turned...to see an open gullet.

"Alright, students," Xavier said, bemused. "Go on. School's starting soon."

We got there fine. Bus was running a bit late, but it killed half of gym, so who's complaining? Not me.

I slammed my locker door shut and turned to stumble my way to the last hour of the day when I crashed headlong into someone. "Sorry," I muttered, walking on.

"Oh, so now you're talking?" Grace said, a half-smile on her face. I straightened and tried to look more relaxed.

"Well, after that power tool accident..." Of course. I totally pulled that one out of my ass after that Sabertooth fiasco. The man himself flashed behind my eyelids, fangs bared and bloody. I flinched back and Grace shot me a concerned look.

"Heading of to that gov/econ class?" she asked. I nodded, feeling slightly sick. "I'll come with you. Isn't that far from my last hour either."

How nice it felt to be normal, talking about normal human things, not about crazy mutant things. We chatted about the weather, which of our teachers were jerks, how much homework we had waiting to be done, what midterms would be like. It was nice.

Then, of course, Xavier came rolling out from the principle's office, turning in his seat to say, "Was it worth the loss of your son?"

"GET OUT!" Darkholme bellowed, slamming the door.

That wasn't out of the ordinary at all. I twirled around, thanked Grace for walking with me, and shot the Professor a 'what the hell was that whole scene for?' look. Xavier simply smiled and left.

I met up with Kurt and Rouge waiting for the bus. They were already knee-deep in another discussion and I caught the last few bits.

"I wish I knew my parents," Kurt asked wistfully, kicking a stick into the road. Rouge snorted.

"So do I but do you see moping? Get over it Kurt. You're not gonna get your picture-perfect childhood even if you do find them."

I rolled my eyes and flicked a finger at the stick. It separated neatly in two. "Not like you'd want one," I mumbled. "They're just backstabbing idiots."

Kurt whirled around, clearly oblivious. "But what about the books? Everyone except for a few people I know have parents and they're fine. They're happy!"

"Yeah, well, not everything is like your stupid backwater country, okay Kurt?" I shouted. I strode away, hands deep in my pockets, fuming to myself. Belatedly I heard Kurt 'bamf' away and Scott and Jean pull up, wondering what happened.

Whatever. I kicked a piece of trash as I walked around the school to the football field. I shouldered my pack and started to climb up the scaffolding towards the new bleachers they're building. It wasn't very stable and shook with the wind, but did I care? No. I wanted to be alone and being up here, all I had for company was my wind and the occasional bird.

I stretched out fully, throwing my pack off to the side. If anyone caught me here I'd be grounded, then suspended, then...who knows what.

I guess I fell asleep sometime during my wanderings.

Sabertooth ripped my throat out, chewing the bloody hunk of meat and swallowing. His face morphed into my dad's, and he grinned, dragging the filet knife and carving out my eyes.

God, I need to stop watching those horror movies. I dream in rated-R material now.

I screamed, "_No!_" My back arched and a sickle-shaped wedge of wind (bigger than anything I'd consciously produced) blasted from my body. I sat bolt upright, panting, and scrubbed at my eyes. Claw marks covered my torso.

Because I couldn't hurt my dream-predators, I hurt myself. What kind of twisted logic comes up with that?

"Why did you want me here? What do you want? Who...who are you?"

Hey, that's Kurt. Wonder what he's doing here.

"I'm not surprised you don't recognize me. But still...it hurts a little...son." Kurt gasped and I peered over the edge to see what exactly had his undies in a bunch.

Well, shit. That makes my problem look like a freaking kitten in comparison. Mystique was the woman who answered him. She was a little ways away and had her arms stretched out. A wistful look crossed my features as I superimposed my father's face over hers.

"Well, how touching. Too bad we have to interrupt the mother-son moment," Pietro said in a faux-sad voice.

Mystique balled her fists and snarled, "What are you doing here, Pietro? Take the rest of the Brotherhood and leave!"

"No can do. We've got higher orders now, lady." He held out a hand and said, "Go!"

Kurt tried, I'll give him that. He 'ported the Blob on top of the stadium lights and was going toe-to-toe with Pietro for a while until Lance decided to interfere. He knocked the world on its axis and Toad whacked him firmly on the temple. He was out like a light.

The shaking made the already unstable to begin with perch I held completely useless, because I toppled from the top and only saved myself from dieing a horrible, painful death by grabbing a slat of wood that was the support strut. Splinters dug into my palms and I winced in pain, letting go and dropping the last ten or so feet down to the ground.

"Look, it's the mute mutie," Lance chuckled. "Have fun getting ripped to pieces by that overgrown cat?"

I froze, seeing my nightmare-Sabertooth instead of that punk. "Leave me alone!" I bellowed, flinging my arms around in a wide arc.

Another monster blast erupted from my flailing limbs. Lance ducked it; it was pretty wide in the first place. Still panicking, I began throwing the blades everywhere.

I saw his face. I felt his claws on my throat, his hot breath on my face.

I think I've blown this way out of all normal proportions. But don't traumatic events seem pretty okay from an outside point of view?

"Loki! Calm down!" I turned wild eyes on my team members, belatedly realizing there was no way in hell that stick-in-the-mud, the redhead he adored, the goofy prep chick, and the ever-so-antisocial one were my enemies. I dropped to my knees, bowing my head.

Someone patted me on the back reassuringly and I flinched away from it. Kitty pulled back and shouted, "Lance, you insensitive jerk! Look what you did to him!"

"Sorry, Kitty, I was just kid-blargh..." His sentence was cut off as Rouge pulled her hand away from his neck.

Pietro scowled and blurred over to Mystique, intent on doing whatever it was he was ordered to do. I watched with narrowed eyes and fired a single bolt at him. The brat saw it coming and served to avoid it.

"Mystique!" Rouge shouted, advancing on her from Kurt's prone form. "Stay here, Kurt needs some answers!" She held out a hand, eyes rolling up in the back of her head, and a fissure yawned wide open, heading straight for the blue woman.

She shook her head, turning away and saying softly to herself, "It's too late for answers now." She lifted up her arms, melted into a raven, and was a dot on the horizon before anyone was any wiser.

Rouge picked up Kurt and we all headed home. I rubbed wearily at my eyes after dinner, fighting the urge to go to sleep.

"I need some coffee," I muttered. Pulling on my comfiest lounge pants I padded my way through the mansion to the kitchen. I started digging through the cabinets.

Xavier lets the adults have coffee but won't let us kids near anything that could be considered 'junk food'. I haven't had any chips in months! Such a tragedy.

"I wanted to tell you some things about Kurt." That piqued my interest. Forgetting completely about the caffeinated beverage I so desired, I crept deeper into the kitchen to peek.

It was the Professor. Jean and Rouge were there too...but no Kurt. That's odd. Talking about Kurt with no Kurt there?

"Mystique is, in fact, his mother. I discovered the lab from the dreams you were having, Rouge, and sent Logan over there while everyone was at school. It appears that he was experimented on as a young infant."

"That's horrible," Jean said, holding a hand to her lips.

Xavier nodded. "I don't want to tell him this. I'm afraid it could negatively impact his life by bringing on such a sudden shock. It's best to keep him in the dark. For now."

Rouge nodded, but she was clearly unsettled. I would be too, put in that kind of situation. "Oh. And Loki..." I froze. Son of a bitch. "You are not to tell anyone else what we have spoken of. And I will be seeing you tomorrow about those dreams. They are getting far out of hand." I scowled, but agreed.

Even I get tired of not sleeping. Hah. I made a funny.

Sorry.

The next day at school I was drooling into my lunch. "Do you think Mystique really is my mother?" Kurt asked to no one.

Rouge swallowed the bite of salad she had been studiously chewing and shrugged. "Hard to tell. She's a mean, crazy lady. She's been jaded a lot. She could just be pulling the wool over our eyes, but who knows?"

Kurt let his head thump on the table. "I just feel like the Professor's not telling me everything!"

I stiffened. Kurt shot me a concerned look and I said, "Well, if he is, it's probably for a good reason, right?"

The teen sighed wistfully and propped his head up on his palm. He stared out the window and I punched him lightly.

"Hey. Crazy mom or no, I'm still here. I'm all the friend you'll ever need!" I insisted, flexing my arms.

He laughed, but didn't look any happier.

I guess, on this matter, we just have to wait and play it by ear.

Coming home from school, I practically fell into Xavier's office. "Okay, let's do this thing. I'm tired."

He rolled up in front of me and put his hands next to my ears. "Just...relax."

I closed my eyes and saw flashes of images: childhood, moving, playing, the nightmares, oh god, the nightmares...I reeled back, breathing raggedly.

"It seems," the Professor said after a moment to compose himself, "that someone has been tampering with your mind."

What a bombshell.


	11. Road Trip With a Crazy Person

**A/N: **Tee hee. No school today! For my class, at least. No more bubbles! Yeah! *coughs* Well, here's the next chapter. Here's also where I'm thinking I'm going to lose a few of you...especially at the end. Please, I've had this planned for a while. Don't give up on me yet! Remember, I don't own it, don't sue, I love getting reviews with CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, and Loki's dad is a bastard. Read on!

* * *

Does anyone besides me know how futile it is trying to be alone is this godforsaken place? I pulled my pillow tighter over my ears, trying to block out the sound of Kitty and Rouge's early morning fighting.

I hadn't slept a wink last night. After the Professor's news, though, how could I? Even if I wanted to.

Sighing heavily, I threw myself somewhere in the vicinity of my clothes, pulled on something to cover all the necessary parts, and stumbled out the door...right into the morning bathroom rush.

Scott and Evan were bickering about seniority while Kurt simply pointed to his face and said, "Fur." I hear ya there, dude. That stuff smells when it's not washed with that frou-frou girly shampoo you love so much. I threaded my way through them all, heading blindly towards the kitchen.

I plopped down in one of the chairs available, eyeing the fruit bowl speculatively. To eat or not to eat...

Kitty stormed in a moment later, carrying her laptop and muttering about space issues. Flipping it open, she started typing away madly. She glanced up at Logan who I just noticed was here and he smirked and said, "Am I readin' to loud for you, half-pint?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Just enjoying the quiet." Damn. Now you jinxed it.

And, true to my prediction, the team came barreling in, shouting and chomping. I groaned quietly and jumped out of the chair, stalking off to anywhere where I could rest. Though, not like I'd want to. Damn nightmares, connected with that bastard screwing with my head.

I stuffed my hands into my pockets and let my feet take me where they would. I was just beginning to doze off a bit when roaring caught my ears.

Kitty heard it too, apparently. "What is that?" I asked tiredly.

Three silver claws poked through the door on our lefts, shredding through it in an instant. Logan opened the door, panting harshly and gripping his head. "You okay?" I asked.

"Just...redecorating," he growled, and staggered off.

That wasn't weird at all. No, I'm so used to this kind of shit happening that I'm pretty sure I didn't even blink.

I shrugged and let him go. Just as his pant leg disappeared from sight, I figured out where I could go to be by myself. Grinning, I hurried off, hoping no one would notice. Not like they would. It was a free day of sorts; a treat for doing so well. On a Saturday, no less. Xavier, you sly dog...

I pressed a button and the loading dock to the Blackbird unhinged with a hiss of air. Smiling tiredly, I climbed up and unhooked one of the portable seats. For when we just don't have enough space, or permission to shove people out the airlocks.

Sabertooth's bloody fangs flashed in silver triplicate behind my eyeballs and I sprung awake, breathing jerkily. "You okay?" Kitty asked nervously. When the hell did she get here?

"I followed you," she admitted. Did I say that last part out loud? Whoops, my bad. "Evan's taken over the living room, outside's off-limits for now, and it's too crowded in the mansion. I wanted some privacy to write home." She proffed her laptop, as if apologizing.

"Mmkay then. Just don't let me fall asleep."

She nodded and resumed typing.

I looked away, trying not to stare. Some girls really hated that. I was trying not to think of the research Xavier was no doubt trying to do with his fancy mind gizmo, trying to figure out who hated my guts so bad they wanted to kill me from lack of sleep.

Kurt 'ported in, scaring the living bejeezus out of Kitty and I. Before he was on the ground I hand my hand out and a blade was slicing past Kurt's crap-for-brains-filled head. "Hey, man, what was that for?" he shouted, holding his hands up.

"You numskull, you can't just 'port around! You startled us!" I retorted angrily. Out of the blue the Blackbird jerked forward and we all fell to the floor. It vibrated with the engines and the whistle of air outside filled the surprised silence.

"Um..." Kitty started, then a growl split the silence. We approached the cockpit in tandem, almost afraid to find out who was behind the wheel.

I opened the door quietly to find none other than Logan at the helm, decked out in please-shoot-me orange and blue spandex. "Mr. Logan, what's wrong?" Kitty asked, clearly concerned. Logan turned, a feral look in his eyes. I grabbed Kitty's arm, fully prepared to throw her back into the waiting room, but thankfully he didn't let loose the evil blades of death.

He clutched his head and growled, "Get...out...my...head...!" He roared, baring his fangs, and popped the silver claws, diving at us. I threw Kitty back and Kurt smacked the door closed. The claws sheared straight through the metal, leaving three slash marks we could look through if we squinted and turned our heads a bit.

"Kurt, can you get us home?" I demanded, rounding on him.

He laughed. "Yeah, sure. Imagine this: bumpety, bumpety, bumpety, splat. Too far up, too fast. Isn't gonna work." Great.

"So now what?" Kitty asked.

"Sit tight and wait to land," I said, and buckled myself in. We rode in tense silence for a while before I started shivering. Could this day get any worse? I'm guessing...yes. It will.

And it did.

We touched down and Kitty phased us through the belly of the beast. There was snow everywhere and I could feel my winds coming out with my breath.

Apparently in the cold, it's the best they can muster. Get off your asses, silver sparkles, and start helping me!

We poked around for a bit. It was really cold and I couldn't take more than a few shuffling steps without shivering so hard I thought I was going to break. Kurt shot me a concerned look but I waved it off. "Can w-we go back in t-the plane now?" I stuttered through chattering teeth. "I-it's all trees and s-snow."

Kurt popped from a treetop to my face and shook his head. "It's not that cold out," he pointed out.

"Yeah, w-well, you don't have l-liquid oxygen for blood, n-now do you?" I snapped. Of course, the one day I forget to put on my new black-'n-silver uniform is the day we go to Canada. Damn Canadian snow and all it's coldness.

"Look! There he is!" Kitty said, pointing. I squinted, craning my head forward. Yep, there he was. He had his mask pulled up and everything. Let me tell you, he made one hell of an imposing figure standing against the mist like that. I waved at him and was about to call when another figure stepped out of the mist.

I blanched and took off, running blindly. No, no, no! There is no way this can be happening. It was like my nightmare all over again, except this time I couldn't breathe. Stupid!

I dropped to my knees, crying my eyes out, when Sabertooth leaped out of the bushes like some cat on a sugar high. 'Cept this kitty came straight from hell.

I screamed and flung my hands out. The silver wind, while significantly weaker than it was normally, slammed into his chest and knocked him back a step. While he was distracted, I took off running, feet pounding the snow into slush.

A weak drizzle fell, masking the noise of my pursuer. The pitter-patter of the drops sounded at every turn like that man running at me, waiting to kill me and eat me alive. No! I shook my head, clearing the images from my mind. Well, I tried.

He tackled me from the side, claws digging into my stomach. I tried to shove him away but he punched me in the abdomen. I dropped into his arms like a sack of potatoes, wheezing and trying desperately to crawl away. He slung me over my shoulder and I started panicking again.

Just like last time, just like last time-!

He threw me down on the ground and I looked up, terrified, into the apathetic face of Logan. "Help," I choked out, still unable to breathe properly.

Logan unsheathed his claws. They gleamed faintly and I saw myself: a pair of scared silver eyes with dilated pupils. He lifted them and swung downwards. I rolled away, soaking my clothes in the mud. I shot to my feet, hearing the comforting sound of Kurt 'porting. Sabertooth vanished and I breathed a jerky sigh of relief.

Something bit into my side and I gasped, grabbing it. I pulled away and saw my blood, eating through my shirt. Logan stared at his claws; though nothing was happening to them, he shook his hand briefly and tiny droplets spattered the ground. The pain hit a moment later. I cried out and fell to one knee, trying to hold back the bile filling my throat.

I looked up in time to see Logan's boot approaching my face at terminal velocity. It connected with a sharp crack and I flew backwards, now completely confused and in no small amount of pain.

I turned my head and spat out a glob of blood, spit, and possibly a tooth. Forcing myself to feet, I stood and tried to look intimidating. Logan had his head bowed and little drips of rain were falling off his chin. So much for that plan.

Before I could move, he turned his head up and howled. It was full of pain and remorse and flashing fangs. Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I whirled around, expecting a fight. It turned out to be just Kurt...who I almost decapitated. Again.

"Sorry," I said. My face felt swollen and tender when I touched it and Kurt nodded.

"Kitty," he gasped, and I whirled around to see what was wrong. Kitty slid fully out of the ground and was talking to that psycho, holding his trembling hands away from her head. Logan slumped onto her, back heaving with sobs. I rolled my eyes and turned to leave when the two ran off.

"Guess we follow them, then?" Kurt asked and I shrugged.

"Why not?" Because, as so often happens with these types of adventures, I end up injured and you all can laugh and say 'Wasn't that fun? Let's go again!' like it was some kind of carnival ride.

Kurt put a hand on my shoulder, focusing on the dots that was Kitty and Logan. We popped and landed next to them, Logan with his claws out expecting a fight and Kitty ready to...I dunno, scratch us to death or something. I held my hands up in a surrendering gesture and looked where we landed.

We were standing in front of a big metal door. "You guys go on ahead," I whispered, pulling my hand away from the gashes on my sides. They were bleeding still...probably ripped open by Kurt's 'porting. "I'll stand watch or something."

I sat down on a rock, somewhat hidden behind a copse of trees. Logan looked hesitant, but I shooed him forward. Bet he's wondering about the cuts. Well, I'll blackmail him or something.

I don't really know how much time passed, just that a lot of fighting noises came from inside. I tied my shirt around my middle in an effort to stop the bleeding, but all that accomplished was destroying it and making me even colder.

Sometime later the object of my nightmares arrived, tearing down the door. He sniffed once, his eyes flicking from side to side, and whispered, "I know you're here, boy. And once your friends are dead, I will kill you as well."

Okay, so now he hates me. What did I ever do to him? Don't answer that. Maybe he just needs anger management classes. I flicked him the bird and watched as he strode menacingly into the depths of the mountain.

The ground started to shake almost immediately after that. I cocked my head, letting a sloppy grin cross my face. Seconds later Logan bolted from the entrance, scooped me up, and took off at a dead sprint towards the jet. Kurt and Kitty were right behind him, running as if their asses were on fire.

The top of the mountain blew off in a thunderous explosion, raining flaming debris all over the forest. Logan ducked and weaved around it, and I turned my head and lost last night's dinner to the trees.

We pounded into the Blackbird just in time for a second, smaller explosion to rip through the air. I flopped around weakly in the med bunk as Kitty tried to wrap my stomach. The bandages kept disintegrating, however, and she finally threw them down and told me to not move, or else.

Well, to make a long story short, we got back to the mansion, I finally put one of my blankets down on the bed that seemed to occupy me more than was strictly necessary, Logan got his head operated on, and Kitty got her alone time.

I sighed, resisting the urge to scratch at my triple-layered dressing. Stupid blood, stupid life, stupid quiet when no one's around at three in the morning. I was just about to call it quits and sleep, nightmares be damned, when Xavier rolled in, looking very apprehensive.

"Is Logan okay?" Hey, I'm allowed to be concerned. He doesn't have much of a brain to begin with, methinks, and that surgery might've screwed up what little was left.

The Professor nodded. "He will be fine." He hesitated, and pulled a letter out of his breast pocket. Scrawled on the outside, in my father's handwriting, was my name. My full name. But with my mother's surname. Well, her surname before she got married again. _Loki James Orehha._

I took it with shaking hands and unfolded it. A mental nudge from the Professor urged me to read it out loud.

"You bastard boy. I don't know what you did to me with your mutant powers that day you came back, but now I, too, have lost my humanity. After much experimentation, mostly on you, I have transferred all my energy into making what you fear, what you dream. If you have noticed lately your nightmares seem gory and won't leave, that is my doing. I hope you enjoy your last gift.

"I have given that man custody of you, the way I'm sure he has custody of all the other mutants that live at that house. To me, boy, you are dead. However, that doesn't matter anymore. You have also been given your whore of a mother's last name. I don't want my family name to be sullied by you when I have already tarnished it beyond repair.

"Boy, if you are reading this, it means I have done what I had been planning to do since I discovered your true nature. I refuse to let you haunt me. By now, I am already dead. See you in hell. Patrick Hydimen."

I felt nothing. I was completely empty.

When will my life stop sucking so completely?


	12. One Thing On Top of Another

**A/N:** Part 1 of the season 1 finale. I've been thinking...about what, I can't tell you. Has to do with future plot twists. ^_^ Thanks for reviewing, people. I love 'em. Your positive words are like the fuel for my fire. I don't own, don't sue. Yes! I'm so excited! Season 2 promises to bring more fun things, I promise. Remember to review and read on!

* * *

The priest's voice droned on and on, creating a somber buzz in the back of my mind. I was standing next to the hole in the ground where they were going to bury my father. Bury him, like he was some kind of bone that the great big German Shepard next door stole and was saving for later. Not for the first time since we received the note, I rubbed my eyes and wished I could just go to sleep.

Or die. I'm not partial to either one at the moment.

They lowered the casket and shoveled the dirt on top of the coffin. Each thump of dirt cackled insanely at me and finally I turned and walked away.

It's not like my dad did anything for me when it counted. He kicked me out. He held me at knife-point, he punched me, he shoved all his power into keeping my wild imagination from letting me sleep. He deserved to die.

I sat numbly through the ride home, even though crazy Miss Ororo was driving. "You okay?" she asked me several times.

"Yeah."

"Sure?"

Hell no. "Yeah."

I wonder if I could slit my wrist with my winds? Would that work? I felt the bandages shift under my too-crisp shirt and jacket. Remnants from that excursion with Logan and his crazy-chip.

Probably not the best idea. He killed himself with those pills he used to need to go to sleep. Took too many. But how did they know? I asked. My father wasn't one to just give up. The police shrugged and said, Well, he was behind on his house and electric payments, and he was slipping into drinking...didn't show up to work every couple days...told his colleagues his son died...

That one stung.

I didn't want to end up like him. Didn't want to call it quits, like he did. Bastard.

No one said anything as I walked to my room, got dressed into my uniform, and went down to the Danger Room. Scott didn't say anything, just set the dummies and let me go. I probably kicked mechanical ass for a good four hours after my father's funeral.

I walked out, panting, covered in sweat, to see none other than Scott waiting at the elevator. Glasses flashing, he gestured for me to follow him. Slumping, panting, and dirty, I followed.

We ended up in the garage. Scott grabbed a rag and idly wiped a smudge off his precious car. "You know, I'm not really sure what you're thinking," Scott admitted. "But I know how it feels to lose someone you love."

"Except I'm sure the person who died in your case wasn't your insane, backstabbing father," I snapped.

"No," he said. "It was my brother."

Foot, please enter mouth. Go approximately twelve inches down. Stay, boy.

"Oh," I said. "Sorry."

"It was a long time ago." He turned his head up. I bet he was talking to him. If he was up there, I mean, for all I know the kid was an asshole and is down partying with Lucifer himself. "My parents were flying. Showing us the rain forest. The engines burned out. There was only one parachute. We jumped together." He clenched his fists, and I could hear his voice tighten. "We were too heavy. Once we were close enough, I let go. I didn't want my little brother to die. But they never found him."

He threw the rag down and walked outside. The sun was shining deceptively bright. It didn't seem fair that, in all the movies I have ever watched, it was raining and dreary the day of the funeral, instead of sunshine and butterflies.

"Alright. So you know what I'm going through." Foot: deeper. Go deeper, much much deeper. "What are you trying to accomplish?"

"Giving you company," Scott said simply. "I was stuck by myself until I came here and met Jean and the Professor. I don't want you to feel that way too." Oh, under all that mushy Jean-love and macho teenager, there's a real person. How nice.

"Great. Except I'm not someone who needs a shoulder to cry on." I stalked off, ignoring the eyes I could feel boring into my back.

Back in the Blackbird. I'm beginning to think I should just carve out a cubby-hole and mark it 'Loki's Space'. That way, when I want to be alone, I can be alone. At least this time, I won't be toted around for someone's crazy joyride.

And then, because my thoughts have the power to screw me over, the Blackbird I was currently sequestered in decided to take off, heading at full speed away from the mansion. I poked my head out of the closet to see three people more than I wanted in the same hundred square feet as me.

Scott leaped up as Xavier pulled out of the cockpit. I held my hands up and said, "Where we goin'?"

Logan flicked a few switches and stormed out. "What're you doin' here, bub?"

I shrugged. "I came here to be alone. Even though last time it happened, it didn't work out so well." I rubbed my side, making a point. Logan winced and backed off.

Xavier rolled forward, giving me a disapproving stare. "We are going to Hawaii. It seems that Scott's brother Alex is not only alive but a mutant as well." Oh, Alex is it? Well, now Scott can have his shoulder and I can go back to being a social hermit. Everyone wins.

"Awesome," I said dryly. "I'm going back to my little hole now."

Scott took a big step forward and put a hand on my arm. "I'm sorry about your dad, Loki."

I jerked my hand away, unintentionally slicing a ragged gash on his forearm. "No you're not. You're just feeling sorry because the person you lost came back, and deserved too." I pressed the button, closing the door, and flopped into a bunk.

Silver claws, blue with my blood, lifted my spine from my body, a white-red strip of bone with bloody chunks dangling from the sides. My eyes snapped open and I sat up, scrubbing at my eyes.

The constant whistle of air had ceased. Wherever we were heading, we where obviously there. I let the ramp loose and crawled out, blocking my peepers from the harsh afternoon sunlight.

Beaches. Babes. Hawaii, indeed. I stripped off the top half of my uniform, throwing the garment back into the belly of the bird. I waded through the sand and plopped down under a palm tree to scope.

What better way to heal a soul than with some relaxation? The mansion's way too tense lately. Kitty got Evan involved in her war against Kurt and things are pretty spotty.

I took off my pants, hid them in the sand, and dived into the surf. It was refreshingly brisk, but not so cold as to skew my perceptions of everything the way snow seemed to do. My head broke the surface and I wondered how long I could hold my breath before I drowned.

So I'm thinking a little morbidly. My life is a little morbid right now. I'm entitled to it, and as a teenager, it's my duty to angst.

I floated there for a bit. Couple minutes, couple hours. Does it matter now? I paddled back to shore, shearing the foamy tops off waves from afar, scaring the surfers and laughing as they toppled into the water.

This is how it was meant to be. How I was meant to grieve. Alone, playing tricks on people, not having to resort to snarking and snapping to get my way. I crawled out, grabbed my pants, and sat at the foot of the cargo hold ramp, still down from my little excursion.

The ground beneath me shuddered and rose; I tumbled backwards into a box of spare parts. Rubbing my head, I traced a square above me in the metal roof/floor. The metal fell into my waiting arms. Groaning as I shouldered it onto a foam piece, I climbed up onto the spare 'Compressors and Turbines' and poked my head through. I was in the passenger hold. Heaving myself up, I crawled up and pressed a cupped hand to the cockpit.

Nothing sounded except the occasional fire of a small engine. It sounded like the only person in there was the Professor. But why the hell would he take off? Without Scott and Logan, no less. I'm betting he didn't even know I was here when he flew the coop.

Maybe he went insane? All that mind pressure can't be good. Bet he snapped, completely and utterly. Gone cuckoo.

"Professor?" I tried, punching the door open. Xavier didn't notice or he didn't care because he didn't answer. Frowning, I strode up and plopped down in the co-pilot's seat. "Where are we going now?"

Xavier started and inhaled sharply. "What on earth are you doing here, Loki? You should be back at the beach with Scott and Alex!"

I snorted, propping my feet up on the dashboard. I just realized I was in my boxers, and to top it all off, I was getting sand and ocean water everywhere. Did I care? No. Not really.

"I went for a swim then came back. Figured you wouldn't want me out of your sight." Seeing as my father just killed himself and left me a note saying he's the reason I'm doomed to have insomnia for the rest of my life.

"You forgot to mention you're a little suicidal as well," he replied dryly. Oh, right. Telepathic. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No!" I exploded. Damn my repressed feelings. I hate my emotions! "I'm sick of people pitying me! I'm sick of them asking how I feel, if I want to talk about it! If I wanted to, I would! I just want my life to go back to normal, and not be so fucking confusing!"

The wind writhed around my head, snapping and tearing a motley arrangement of cuts all over my face. I swiped the blood away angrily and turned away. Looking outside the window, instead of seeing fluffy clouds and blue skies, stars twinkled through a faint haze.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Xavier said, skipping the reprimand for the moment. "But as of now, we have some other problems." Like heading straight for that supersized rock just hanging out? "Yes, something like that."

You know, all those times I said just pick the answer out of my brain, I wasn't giving you permission, I was being an ass.

"It's not my fault you broadcast your thoughts." Oh, now he's got some sarcasm. Jerk.

"Sorry," I snapped. We jerked to a halt, the entire jet shuddering. "After you, Professor." I flung out a hand, still sitting.

He gave me a Look that only adults who are very stressed can give and gestured with a finger for me to follow. He buzzed around the hole I cut, giving me yet another disapproving look, and I dropped through to grab my pants.

Whoever we're meeting on this rock, I certainly would hate to make a bad impression. Introducing yourself in your boxers can do that.

Crawling back up, we continued out into the hangar bay. I shrugged and said, "Well, looks like no one's here. Too bad. Guess I'll just go wait with the jet, have fun!"

"Oh, why don't you stay? I didn't realize Charles was bringing guests." Well, that was a new voice. I turned around slowly and almost burst out laughing.

"Dude, what up with the dorky helmet and cape combo?" I said, chuckling. He gave me a very hateful glare and crooked a finger. My belt buckle leaped forward, dragging me along with it. I stopped a few inches away from the crazy dude and smiled. I flung a hand in his direction with the intent to take off his fingers.

He didn't bristle when the wind snapped out, simply stepped back and brought me forward to take my own blow. Hissing in pain, I clenched a hand over the cut on my arm. "Do not try that again, or I will place you in stasis as well."

I wrenched myself away and retreated to a safe distance, i.e., behind the Professor. Stasis? What the hell did that mean?

"And who is this, Charles?" the man said after a moment.

"A student. Loki...Orehha." I winced slightly. Right. Not Hydimen anymore. "What are you planning, Erik?"

Erik stopped in front of a door, hand held aloft. "What is his real name, Charles?" Real name? That is my real name.

"Tempest." Oh. That name.

"A fitting name for a wind-user...not bad." He waved his hand lazily and the door sprang open, revealing an enormous chamber. Big circlular doors took up most of one wall, and along the other side were these cylinders...against my better judgement, I stepped forward and felt my hatred for this Erik person rise up a few hundred notches.

Jean. Miss Ororo. Blob. Lance. Pietro. All hanging there, eyes closed, not breathing.

"That...is stasis?" I whispered. "Are they okay?" I put my hands on the glass, then raised both my hands, preparing to break them out.

"Tsk, tsk," Erik said, jerking me back. My shot went wide, tearing into the ceiling. "You never learn, do you?" I slammed into the opposite wall, stunned. I dropped to the floor, trying to piece together my vision, currently swarming with multi-colored spots. Erik chuckled and said to Xavier, "You always seem to get the stubborn ones."

I looked up in time to see Scott come in from a side door, his blond bubble-headed little brother at his side. "Scott." The Professor was shocked, clearly. I forced myself to my feet and stalked up to him.

"What the hell are you doing here with this lunatic?" I shouted, pointing at Erik.

"Magneto said he could evolve our powers so we could control them," Alex said. I glared at him darkly. "We-" he indicated the both of them "-are interested."

I laughed coldly. "Right. I believe that about as much as I believe my father really was a mutant."

Erik, or Magneto, or whatever the hell he called himself, chuckled again. Damn, I'm beginning to hate him. A lot. "He was indeed. He dealt with dreams. I approached him with an offer to join me. He declined, citing personal reasons. I believe he is dead now, correct?"

I couldn't see straight. You know how in all those old books with the beserkers that say they see red?

I saw silver. Next thing I know, I'm pinned to the barrier, iron bars practically welded to the walls keeping me in place, snapping and snarling angrily at Erik. Wind darted and flashed around Magneto's head, ripping minuscule tears in his garish outfit.

"Scott, if you choose to take this step, you will not be the same. You will have full control over your powers. You will be better. Evolved." Well, when you put it that way, even to me the offer sounds tempting.

"Please, bro?" Alex begged. "My hands. They've been hurting since yesterday, and it won't stop."

Scott heaved a breath and let his head drop. "I suppose...we could try it." He held up one finger. "On one condition." He gestured to me. "He has to do it too, okay? He just lost his dad."

Alex nodded and I let my jaw drop.

"No way in hell I'm doing this thing!" I shouted as the bars lifted me from the wall and clamped around my arms. I floated forward next to Scott and Alex as they strode forward into the now-open circular hole in the wall. Looks like I don't really get a choice in the matter. Damn Magneto.

The last thing I heard before darkness stole over me was Xavier, shouting, "Don't do this, Scott!"

Thanks for your concern.


	13. Because He Won't Go Away

**A/N:** Hey. Sorry for the not in forever update. ^_^ Had a bit of writer's block, and finally sat down to finish this up. Sorry if it's not as climactic as it could have been, but I like it. Leave a review, even if you feel like you have nothing to say. Last thing, I don't own it, so don't sue.

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There are a few things I've learned from being part of Xavier's crew for the last few months. Firstly, in order to sneak, you must not sneak. Sneaking causes attention to be drawn to yourself, when how many people pay attention to the random guy walking out the door cool as a cucumber? Exactly.

Secondly, you don't bother the Professor early in the morning. It's not condusive to living, breathing, or having any coherent thoughts for the rest of your life.

Thirdly, since Jean and Scott are my age and the first official 'X-Men' besides Logan and Miss Ororo, they get first dibs. On everything.

And finally, every other adult mutant on this planet (and above it, in this particular situation) is insane. Count yourself lucky Xavier found you first.

Which is how I ended up here. Tied up with metal bars I don't think I could saw through even though my life depends on it, stuck in this weird-ass place, listening to Scott try and blast his way out, listening to Alex fight on Magneto's behalf.

Before I could mount any type of protest, a faint buzzing filled the room. I craned my head around until I found the source: a red stone, pulsing with light from the inside. The light contracted to a single point.

Then all hell broke loose.

The light flooded the room, leaking out from the cracks in the doors. It wrapped around the three of us, filling us to the brim, then pouring out, making our eyes and mouth shine with bloody luminescence. Pain followed on the light's heels; gnawing through every pore.

God damn, that shit stung.

After a second, after an eternity, the pain abated, the light ceased. I lay on my side, breathing harshly. Lifting my head up, I squinted as the doors opened, flooding pure, clean, not painful light down on us.

Before consciously made the decision, I was on my feet. I was pleasantly surprised. The iron rods wrapped so fiercely around me before sat at my feet in a hundred pieces, glowing cherry red and spitting sparks.

Okay then. I stepped over them cautiously and poked my head out. Scott and Alex were already out, checking over themselves and preening. I calmly walked out, hands in my pockets.

Oh, pockets. They are wonderful, aren't they? I'm so lucky I actually got pockets in my uniform.

Moving on. I pulled to a halt next to Xavier, who was engrossed in the changes that occured in one of his oldest students. Smiling benignly, I tapped him on the shoulder.

The effect was instantanious. He nearly fell out of his wheelchair, surprise dug into every line on his face. "Loki!" I nodded. That's my name, alright. Or is it Tempest? Does it matter? "I didn't see you come out. I thought...you didn't survive."

I shrugged. "Well, I did. Good, bad, whatever."

Magneto tutted in the background, explaining random features of the new Summer Brothers to us, though neither of us were listening. "They have no more emotions," he said, turning back to us, smile fit to bursting on his face.

I grinned cheekily. "Hey! Missed you. Might want to work on that pain aspect, though. Kind of a turn off."

He was struck dumb as well. It's so nice to have that effect on people. Mutants. Same difference. "You should not have emotions, either," he pointed out.

I flicked him the bird and a blade of wind. He ducked the blast and glared at me.

Most likely, something went wrong with the machine, but I definitely felt different. Lighter. Like the weight of the world had dropped off my shoulders.

After a moment of mental inspection, I figured it out. All that pain, self-hatred, regular hatred, and regret had gone. I could look at the situation clearly, now that my negative feelings weren't clouding my perspective. "Probably the metal absorbed the emotion-sucking part of the zap-fest," I said, gesturing carelessly behind me.

Tiring of the conversation already, I peered around the shiny dome of Xavier's head to look at the brothers. Both had white hair, muscular builds, and seemed about as intelligent as rocks. Sounds to me like all Magneto did was stuff them full of steroids.

I caught my own reflection in the floor and cocked my head curiously. My face had been...for lack of a better term, wind blasted. Everything was more angular, more swept back. My ears were even more pointed, if that was possible, and my entire eyes were silver. I smiled wanly and fangs pricked my lower lip. And, to top it all off, my hair was white too.

Damn it.

I looked up sharply just in time to get yanked away from Xavier, who pounded desperately on the walls of the tube before falling into a reluctant stasis. I was about to break him out when Magneto said, "Do you wish to test your new abilities?"

Oh, I feel like such a bad person, but I'm a curious mutant. I nodded hesitantly and followed behind the Power Duo-Summer Style across the hanger bay to a target set. It was well abused, with the occasional pipe poking out from the bullseye. Scott stepped forward, glasses absent.

I ducked; the place rocked on its foundations. He ramped it up, the power bubbling around his head. I closed my eyes, but the red burned itself onto my lids. Finally, after a solid ten minutes, I cracked one eye open and stood. At some point, I'm guessing, Alex joined in, because the destruction seemed a bit much for one megamutant.

Magneto nodded to me. I held out one hand slowly, and pushed.

A blade easily twice as big as the ones I normally had to fight to get out sprang from my fingertips. At the very last moment, I remembered to turn it dull, because I really didn't feel like dieing from decompression at the moment.

The wind hit the target set with a clang that set the entire asteroid buzzing with the carried vibrations. Once the echoes had subsided, I stared at my fingers like they were snakes on my hand. "I...did that?" I muttered.

"Yes," Magneto said, laying a hand on my shoulder. It about toppled me over. For an old guy, Mags was ripped. "You are one of the first of a new species. One of the first of a better, more advanced kind of mutant. Join me, along with Scott and Alex, and we will rule over these pathetic humans with our gifts."

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. Wiping a fake tear from my eye, my face turned deadly serious. If there ever was a time for that, it was here and now. "You're kidding, right? I'm supposed to believe that hardass is going to join you? Honor isn't an emotion. He takes his job seriously."

Magneto sighed, placing a hand on his forehead. "I figured you were going to be uncooperative..." He snapped his fingers and my nightmares abruptly came to life. "So I arranged a little surprise for you."

Sabertooth stalked out from somewhere and fear froze me to my spot. This...wasn't the cat I knew. This was it's older brother by a hundred years. He was three times as big as me, a good foot and a half taller, and a hell of a lot more viscious looking. I blinked and he had his hand wrapped around my throat. My feet dangled off the floor.

"Dispose of him," Magneto ordered, turning around. "Then meet us in the main chamber." He strode off, cape flapping.

I turned panicked eyes on the improved Sabertooth. Seems like all that partial emotion-zapping left plenty of room for fear. Joy.

Sabertooth walked smoothly out of the main room. I fought vainly; because, of course, fear overrode my control because life hates me. He squeezed a little tighter and I gasped loudly, black spots popping in my eyes. After a long, long time, he tossed me into a little cubicle as if I were merely a feather. I got shakily to my feet and held out my hand, ready to slice 'n dice.

Then it opened. The air around me roared past, escaping into the bowels of space. I turned, half panicked, and closed my eyes. God, I needed a breathing suit thingamajig like those astronauts!

Everything was quiet. Was this what it was like to be dead? I cracked one eye open, afraid to see hell.

I'm going there. I bet I've got first class seats!

Anyway, it wasn't fire and brimstone and Lucifer shoving a pineapple up Hitler's ass. No, it was space, distorted through a curtain of shimmering silver. I flexed my hands experimentally and found that everything was in order, and nothing appeared to be in its wrong place. Good.

Now what the hell just happened?

Before I could answer my own rhetorical question, something glimmered in the corner of my eye. I twisted around, spinning in lazy circles, and discovered while upside down it was a jet.

Not just any jet...it was the X-Jet!

But not the Blackbird. Odd. I extended a hand and out from my fingertips shot five dagger-like blades, which sunk into the hull with a shriek. I watched as it sailed past and let out a strangled yelp as it just about tore my shoulder from its socket. It headed with deadly speed to the asteroid on which I had just been.

And...instead of landing like any normal bunch of freaks, they crashed through the roof. Though, if the red beams glancing out from either side were any guess, I'd say it wasn't exactly a planned thing. I was tugged along and slammed very bodily into the ground.

That shit stung, too.

Spitting plaster out of my mouth and brushing chunks off my back, I stood, wearily gazing at the complex battle scene already taking place before me. Can't these people just swallow their pride and work together for once?

Apparently not. Logan sailed past my head, blood streaming from his temple. Evan and Pietro were going at it as well. Sighing, I ducked around their harried blows and ripped open the stasis tubes that remained.

Because the Brotherhood only let out their own, and Logan and the rest of the gang were duking it out with 'em. They all slumped to the floor and I re-weaved my way through, perching myself atop the jet to watch the show.

I so wish I had some popcorn.

I let out a quiet whoop as Kurt and Kitty dropped the Blob with a stunning combination of surprise and teleporting him thirty feet into the air and letting go. Logan was still getting the shit beaten out of him and I shrunk back as Sabertooth stalked past my hiding place to resume the beatings.

Maybe I'm not fighting because I'm lazy. Wouldn't surprise me.

Toad fought valiantly against Magneto with the help of an especially pissed off Mystique. He lashed out with his tongue but Erik threw a piece of rubble into his face. He crashed backwards into Mystique, who tumbled backwards into the changie-thingie. Red light leaked out after a moment and Magneto practically threw himself at the doors, trying to wrench them apart.

It didn't work. I mean, the doors came apart, but a second too late. Mystique walked out sinuously, wagging her hips from side to side. She looked about ten times more dangerous than before. She launched herself at him, raining blows faster than a striking snake.

Storm blasted Sabertooth into a wall, burying him in a rush of debris. Before I could come assist her with the task of clearing the chunks from in front of the jet, something shiny caught my eye.

It was a ring, hitting the light just right so it blinded me. The ring was on a hand, sticking partway out of an open door. I leaped off the jet, landing silently on the ground, and picked my way forward, ignoring the rising conversation behind me.

"There's a line that comes with these powers, Scott! And guess what: you just crossed it." Jean. Such a harpy somedays.

I picked up the hand and let it fall limply to the floor. I opened the door a little wider, trying to get a clear look.

"If this is the future, Scott, I don't want anything to do with it. Or you."

I grabbed the end of the shirt and dragged the body out into the rapidly fading sunlight.

"This is goodbye."

Ice poured down my spine; in its stead, white-hot anger flashed through me. I could hardly believe what I saw. But it was real. Too real.

I sprinted over to where Magneto and Mystique were still duking it out. I smacked the blue woman away with a flick and pinned him to the wall. "What do you have to say for yourself, grave robber?!" I snarled, tears dripping down my face. "Explain yourself!"

He smiled sinisterly. "Touched a nerve, have I?" he said, and winced as a gash opened up from neck to navel. It was shallow enough he wouldn't bleed out...as long as someone stitched it up. Eventually. "Fine. I have dealt with dream-workers before. Several of them have the ability to go into a death-like state, to fool others. I simply figured your father was in such a coma and was going to remove his emotions and use him for my own purposes." He let out a low chuckle. "Turns out he really was dead."

I turned away at the very last second before the largest whiplash of silver wind speared from my hands. It tore through the floor like a hot knife through butter, swinging through the entire asteroid before dissipating.

All was silent. Then, a low rumble spread through the hangar. "Knock it off, Lance!" Toad shouted.

Lance shook his head. "It ain't me!"

Whoops. My bad.

I looked up through clouded eyes and saw the jet, hovering impatiently. Two lone figures stood in the hatchway, then dropped like stones to the ruins below. As one, a concussive blast of power lanced out, slowing their decent.

I crouched beside the body of my father, head buried in my hands. Someone laid a gentle hand on my back and I smacked it away. God, I feel like such a wimp!

Scott got right down next to me and said, "C'mon. Everyone's waiting."

Impulsively clutching the wedding band I had removed a moment ago, I nodded and stood.

He's dead now. I have to accept that. He still is giving me the nightmares, but he can't hurt me. I have a new family now. They were waiting, up in that jet that crouched over the ruins of half the rock like a guard dog.

Xavier used his amazing mental prowess to lift us into the open hatch. I watched out the window as the asteroid that held the body of my father crashed into the face of the moon, forever lost to the wonders of space. "And he always said he wanted to visit the moon one day," I muttered.

The ride home was silent. The Brotherhood had hitch-hiked another ride with us and they cornered themselves in a spare room. I didn't spare them a second glance until Lance pointed out that he saw two spheres flying out of the building before it blew up.

That mean's Magneto is still alive.

"I'll use my powers for good," Alex said, nodding, and flexed his fingers. A tiny wince crossed his suntanned features and he grinned. "See ya later, bro!"

I glared at him as he walked past. He jumped back, spooked. "Dude, why's your face still super-mutified?"

What the hell does that mean? I frowned and was starting a famous Loki rebuttal when my reflection leaped out from the jet.

White hair. Really angular features. Completely silver eyes.

Gritting my teeth, I stormed into the mansion, ignoring Alex, who looked confused.

I hate my life.


	14. A Taste of the Truth

**A/N: **Hello! Super duper long chapter for you, over three thousand words! Not much to say except Spring Break rocks. And to answer your query, it's from a movie called _Little Nicky_. There's a scene in there where the devil shoves a really big pineapple up Hitler's ass, and Hitler happens to be wearing one of those frilly maid outfits. Hilarious. ^_^ Don't own, don't sue, pretty please review.

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"How fast are you going?"

"Twenty. Can I poke the gas pedal yet?"

"No. We're in a school zone. Cops are everywhere these days. Go ahead and flick on your blinker. Turn right on Mapledale."

I rolled my eyes. "Logan, that's four streets up. I'm not turning it on this early."

He growled softly and I grudgingly did as he asked. Behind me, the procession of cars I'd picked up honked loudly. I stuck my hand out the open window and flicked them all the bird.

Logan grasped the seat tighter and snapped, "Watch it! Squirrel, dead ahead!"

Finally, after ten minutes of crawling along, I swerved around the rodent (as if I'd've hurt it doing twenty-gimme a break) and pulled into the high school's parking lot. Logan crawled out, looking like he was about to kiss the ground in thanks, but instead just shivered and stalked off.

The world decided, quite abruptly, to take everything I'd learned about my house-mates and turn it on its head. Miss Ororo? Nicest lady on the freakin' planet. Drives like an escaped convict with a hostage. Logan? Crazy, crazy, rough, indifferent, crazy. Directs driving like an old lady missing a hearing aid. Good gracious, if this is what Xavier had in mind to appease my temper after that asteroid incident, I'm kicking his bald ass right back to planet idiot.

I forked over eight of my precious dollars to go watch Jean dribble circles around these other girls. She took it straight to the goal and let loose; it slammed into the back of the net so hard I'm surprised it didn't burn right through. I let out a half-hearted cheer and didn't move from my sitting position.

They won. Well, to be fair, you'd have to say Jean won, because she singlehandedly scored every goal, managed to defend the goal from three shots at several different intervals, and looked damn fine doing it. She was so amazing, I almost retched. Throwing away the bottle from my fruit juice, I waved away Logan's offer of another torture session to hitch a ride with Scott.

He tried to offer Jean a ride but she took Duncan's offer instead, which left shotgun wide open. I practically vaulted into the front seat, sticking out my tongue at Kurt and Kitty who followed behind at a more sedate pace. "I thought you were driving with Mr. Logan," Kitty said crossly.

"I'm not gonna drive with him again if I can help it," I said, propping my feet up on the dashboard. "He's such a weenie. Made me open every window and the sunroof and drive five below the speed limit, 'just in case'."

Scott slapped my feet down and pulled out, taking the highway. Xavier's place was on the outskirts; ten minutes by city, five by highway. Kurt snorted loudly and puffed out his chest. "Look at me, I'm Wolverine, big scary man with claws! Roooaaar!"

I chuckled and turned to look at Scott. He'd been pretty withdrawn lately, but this? "Scott? Might want to drive on the right side of the road. Just a thought." He shook his head and pointed behind him. I twisted around and watched as five or six police cars shot past, sirens blaring. "Oh. Never mind."

A crunch followed moments later. I peered through the slight darkness and found the school bus, carrying all those lonely and upset and lovely soccer girls whose asses Jean kicked, dangling precariously over a bridge. I swear, we need theme music or something.

I looked expectantly at Scott, who in turn looked hesitant. It's true. We were out in the open...no protection...for all intents and purposes, we were just a car of high schoolers. Not mutant superheros.

The bus lost another foot, the screech of metal on stone echoing throughout the city. Below, police cars hovered anxiously. "There's no way they'll survive that fall," I pointed out.

Scott glanced upwards and then nodded. "Loki, help me push it back onto the bridge. Kurt, take Kitty over there and get them out. Keep your faces hidden." He lowered his glasses and I pulled my hood over my head, shoving blunt winds out of my hands. The bus was blasted back by the silvery-red mixture and if I squinted, I could faintly make out the two freshmen darting in and out of the vehicle.

Kurt waved frantically and 'ported Kitty back into the car. "Drive, man!" he barked. "I think one of the girls recognized me!"

Scott tore out of there and we made it back to the mansion in record time. Take that, Sissy-driver Logan. You can drive fast and not get caught!

We pulled in and leaped out of the car, patting each other on the back for a job well done. I looked at my watch and about had a heart attack: Xavier specifically said he wanted all the X-Men down in the Danger Room to meet the new mutants that were coming in. "Come on!"

Kurt saved us a load of time and just popped us down there. I stripped off my outer clothes, stretched a bit, then smiled. "We're here!"

"And you're late," Xavier reprimanded, rolling forward. He was at the head of a small throng of people. I cocked my head and pointed.

"You rushed us away from perfectly good relaxing time to meet these punks?" I said incredulously. "What a waste!"

The air in front of my face exploded and a short little blond chick strutted forward, a glowing ball about the size of a marble in her fingers. "Punks, huh?" she drawled. "I don't think so."

I rolled my eyes, hearing Logan whisper, "We might need a few more instructors...and possibly a few tanks." I snorted and looked at the girl again.

"So..." I flicked a piece of dust off my uniform. "You got a name?"

"Tabitha, Tab, Tabby," she replied. "Or, as I prefer to be called..." She flicked the marble at me and it popped loudly. "Boom Boom."

Great. She has a sense of humor. I shrugged and stuck out my hand. "Not bad. Loki."

She nodded and batted my hand away. Striding back to the group, she waggled her fingers over her shoulder and sent me a sultry glance. I leaned down to the Professor and muttered, "We still up for talking later?"

He nodded and I waved goodbye. As I was about to punch the elevator for my floor, he called, "Come see me in my office in an hour. We need to discuss your rash actions after the game."

I smiled nervously and watched as Scott, Kurt, and Kitty looked over at the Professor with pale faces. Then the doors closed and I was rocketing up. I can't believe he let me go. That's really unlike him.

Bet he thinks I'm still frazzled over that thing that happened. That one thing, with Dad...and the asteroid...and the not going back to looking kind of human, and instead looking like some demon freak...nope. I'm good.

Whatever. I'm awesome. Never been better! I don't have to worry about the constant pressure of thinking I should go visit his grave, because I can't go up to the moon all the time, now can I? I have replaced all the mental blocks on my power, so now I don't have to worry about accidentally breaking the mansion because of my temper.

It's so much better. Easier. Even though all the regret and self-hatred came back. That's okay. I was expecting that.

I snuck another peek at my watch and sat up, stretching. I crawled reluctantly out of my bed, clicking the heater in my uniform up another notch, and made my way to Xavier's office. I poked my head through the door and sat down next to Scott. Kurt and Kitty were absent.

"They didn't make the decision, they merely followed orders," Xavier said. I frowned and burrowed deeper into the plush chair.

Scott leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Please, Professor," he said. "I think it's time we came out. We can't hide forever! The public needs to know that mutants exist. It's only fair."

The Professor shook his head. "They're not ready for us," he replied gravely. "Although I think you may have seized events and moved them out of our hands for the time being." He flicked on the television, on the local news station. Replaying on a looped tape was a silver-red beam blasting the bus back onto the road and dark shapes appearing next to it.

"You are both grounded. No extra activities, no socializing, and another ten hours in the Danger Room. Each."

I groaned and nodded, watching as Scott agreed and left. There was a brief rush for dinner and everyone, including the New Mutants (as they're being called), left for bed.

Somehow, I ended up back in Xavier's office. I curled up on a chair, and yawned. "So, wanna explain why I'm not going back to my wonderful self?"

He sighed, rubbing a temple. "The gem Magneto used should have had the same effect on everyone...but Scott and Alex returned to normal. The only reasonable conclusion I can come up with is that your mutation was going to do that regardless. Some people's X-genes do that."

I laughed bitterly. "Great. So, now what?"

"Now, you continue to live. Be a teenager. You're still Loki, even though you look like some type of demon or wraith. Now," he said, abruptly switching topics, "I'm going to see what I can do about this dream problem of yours." He rolled forward and placed his hands on my head.

There was silence, then a brief burst of world-numbing pain. I blacked out and came to a moment later, shooting upright. I felt wide awake. "What was that?"

"I, to put it in layman's terms, flipped a switch that effectively lowered the amount of sleep you will need. Now, instead of six to eight hours a night, a normal persons' required amount, you need about one or two a month." I nodded and thanked him in a small voice. Smiling, Xavier shooed me out of his office with a final request: "Don't bring me any more late work notices, now that you have acquired all this free time."

Wow. What to do, what to do...as it turned out, I sat and watched late night reruns on the jumbo flat screen in the rec room. I was banned from anything junk food related (pop, popcorn, cookies...oh, calories, I miss you so) so I ate apples all night long.

The New Mutants joined us for the Danger Room session that morning. Every single one of them looked absolutely bushed, covering up yawns and rubbing their eyes. Oh, this was going to be fun...

And it was. We played tag: low-power only, you get hit with another person's gift, you're out. It finally ran down to me and Kurt, and the fuzzy dude narrowly beat me by 'porting me into the air and dropping me.

Lucky bastard.

I pulled out a book, already bored. We were all at school, of course, listening to some guy introduce the new principal since Mystique (as Darkholme) went AWOL. A quiet cheer went up and the man himself walked on.

"My name is Edward Kelly. I hope to make sure that this year, everyone can use their special talents to make this a wonderful experience for all of us." I snorted; Grace, sitting next to me, raised her eyebrows.

"What's so funny?" she needled, poking me in the side.

I shrugged. "Inside joke at the Institute."

She smiled and something inside fluttered a little. Damn butterflies. I knew eating that school food would come back to haunt me.

Principal Kelly droned on and on about how awesome we were, how cool we were, yadda yadda. A slight rumble skittered across the room and the speech stopped as Kelly stumbled slightly. I let out a small chuckle. Grace clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to hold back her laughter.

Kelly straightened, flushed. Readjusting his shirt, he continued on with the speech and was very nearly finished when another, stronger quake sped through. The scoring board for basketball came undone from the wall with a crack and I glanced at it. To save the idiot or not...I flicked my hand as inconspicuously as possible and slammed the hunk of metal to the side.

"Lance," I hissed. Grace looked at me funny. Did she see me? Oh, I hope not. She wasn't looking when I did it...maybe it would just be easier if we came out. Certainly would be less cause for stress.

Kelly stood and finished quickly, "And I hope all of you come to the pep rally for the girls soccer championship match. Thank you and have a good day!"

What a wuss. You almost get flattened by one scoreboard and you think the world's out to get you. Humans.

The rest of the day was pretty normal, except I got chewed out by three of my teammates for using my powers to save the guy's life. I decided at the end of the day that riding the bus was too tiring and I was going to hitch a ride with Scott. I found him waiting by his car, pacing. "Have you seen Jean?" he pressed.

"No," I replied. "Can I get a ride home with you?" He nodded distractedly and turned his head.

I followed the line of sight to find Kitty and Lance arguing. Use them claws, girl. Lance spotted us and strode over. "Got a problem with me, Cyke?" he snapped. "Don't want me around her?"

Scott glared at him, folding his arms across his chest. "I don't want to see her hurt, Alvers, and all you promise is a butt load of pain."

"Oh, temper. Watch it, don't want to go blowing your big secret now do we?"

I looked at the ground guiltily. "No. Loki's doing that for me."

"Stop it!" Kitty exclaimed. "I'm not a possession. If you have a problem with me and Lance, Scott, shove it. Lance, you know we can't go public! It's too dangerous!" She sent me an acidic look and I said nothing. Huffing irritably to herself, she stalked off.

She can be very scary when she wants to be. I spent the afternoon with Scott in the DR, running and puffing and running some more.

The Professor even turned up the level to 4. Doesn't sound like much, but it's a world of differences. These black glob things pinned my hands to my sides so I couldn't even use my winds well. Need to work on that.

We failed miserably. By the time we were showered and ready to plant our butts on a couch, it was time for that stupid rally. We drove back to the school, very nearly missed hitting a pedestrian, and parked crooked. Sucks to be Scott.

I found Grace again in the stands and sat down next to her. "Hey," she said, teeth chattering. I still had my uniform's pants on, so I was nice and toasty where it counted.

"Hey. Need my jacket?" I offered. She declined and we watched in awe as fireworks lit up the sky. Just as the finale was about to begin, they ceased and a familiar voice boomed over a stolen microphone.

"Hey!" It was Lance. "I've got news for you. Humans aren't the only people on this planet anymore. There's a new breed out there with special powers. Mutants! The future is here! Everyone from Xavier's Academy is a mutant! Jean and Scott specifically! Now, you had better give us the respect we deserve, or else!"

Grace inhaled sharply and shrunk away. "You're- you're a- a mutant?"

I gritted my teeth, watching as the Blob ripped the hawk off the roof of the announcer's building and launched it into the gym. "Yes, I am," I snapped. "Got a problem with it?"

She shook her head, fear in her eyes. I hated that look, like I was about to cut out her virginity and sacrifice it to my black gods. I leaped over people, watching as they pointed and whispered, trying to fight my way down to the field.

Something grabbed my wrist and the inducer shut off with a click. I was exposed. People started screaming, running away from the freak. I wanted to curl into a ball and cry. Instead, I sprinted down and punched the first Brotherhood member I could lay my hands on, which happened to be Lance himself.

"Bastard!" I hissed, baring my teeth. He shrank back and tried to open a fissure under me, but I darted around and was about to hit him again when Kelly cried out in fear. Pietro was whirling around him, cackling. I gave Lance a look that could melt stone and went over to rescue Kelly. I picked him up, one arm around my shoulder, and blasted a hole in the turf.

Pietro, so busy taunting us, stumbled to a halt, which is when Jean rushed in and threw him over the stands. I led Kelly back up to a safe place and snarled, "Stay here." He nodded timidly.

Damn it. Here I am, frightening in appearance, scaring the shit out of everyone I know. I sat down, head in hands, and let only one sob break free from my chest. Rain pattered down on my back and I looked up to see Miss Ororo smiling comfortingly down. I heard Xavier in my head.

_I'm going to erase their memories of tonight. Everyone has taken care of the news cameras. Go on home._

Pressing the button on my watch that made me look human again, I jumped down to the exit, waiting for the rest of the team. Kitty and Lance left, deep in conversation. Kurt and Evan exited, followed by Jean and Scott, and finally Xavier, being pushed by Miss Ororo.

He was about to speak when he slumped over in his seat, muttering, "Can't go on...don't know if Kelly was wiped...can't do it..." He fell unconscious and Miss Ororo sped up, loading him into the van and driving home at breakneck speed.

So. Our first taste of a public reaction. Everyone hates us, so why go out? I say, after that little spectacle, lets be secretive about it forever.

Hah. As if life could ever be that easy.


	15. All About Jean, Unfortunately

**A/N:** Hey, new chapter up. Nothing new to report: I still don't own this. All I own is Loki and his smart-ass idiocy. Thanks to all you all who read this, even though you never seem to review. ^_^ It's okay. I'll forgive you. This time.

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I wanted to throw up.

"This award will go to the most valuable player on our girls Varsity soccer team. She is hardworking, dedicated to her sport, and loyal to her teammates. Please stand up, Jean!" Kelly clapped loudly with the rest of the auditorium. I rolled my eyes, annoyed, and kept my arms crossed over my chest.

Grace snickered loudly. "God, as if that wasn't the most obvious thing in the world," she pointed out. "Jean's been kicking ass ever since she got put on the team!"

I nodded. "Try living with her," I muttered. "She's such a goody two shoes sometimes. It's really irritating."

She snorted and we watched as Jean climbed the stage, grinning like a fool and waving madly. Oh, stop with the pretending. Everyone knew you were going to get that award. All they feel is jealousy they couldn't do as well as you.

"Thanks so much!" she gushed. "I'm really excited. This is absolutely unbelievable! I mean, I can't...I...I can't..." She looked off to the side, then up at the balcony, confused. Aw, hun, it's okay. You don't need to act like you're surprised. She swung her head around and glared at me.

No fair! I didn't even say it out loud!

She shook her head, then again, and grabbed her head. Then, as suddenly as she spazzed, she was fine again.

"Sorry about that, guess I just lost my head for a sec there," she joked, looking pale. "Thanks a lot. I really appreciate how highly you all think of me." Waving again, she gingerly walked down the steps and sat in the VIP section.

And to think, they were just now gearing up for the actual game itself. Don't they normally do this kind of thing at a private banquet, or something? I dunno. Now that that spectacle was finished, we were released to our next class.

Grace and I walked together to Chemistry. Rumor had it that we were getting a new teacher. I really hope it was true; the old teacher couldn't spell chemistry, let alone teach it. When we got there, it was just kids horsing around. We sat down at an open table and Grace pulled out some kind of Japanese comic book.

"What's this?" I asked, stealing it from her hands. Frowning, she grabbed for it, but I pulled it out of her reach.

"Give it back!" she snapped hotly. I kept her page and looked at the cover. "Loki, give it back!"

"Alright, alright. Don't lose your head, gosh," I replied sarcastically, handing it back over. Before I could come up with another snappy comment, the new teacher walked in. I whistled. Guy's built like a freakin' linebacker, all chest and muscles.

"Today...we'll be doing something fun. Now, I'm Dr. McCoy. Who wants to make some stink bombs?" He grinned.

Methinks I'm gonna like this guy. We spent the rest of the hour putting together these little balls that stunk to high heaven. Everyone, even unstudious Lance (busy trying to woo Kitty with his amazing science skillz), let out a groan of disappointment when the bell rang. I grabbed some of Grace's books and followed her to her locker.

"So," she said after a moment. "Going to Duncan's party?"

I waved a hand in dismissal. "I don't do parties. Close quarters with a lot of drunk teenagers make me feel slightly idiotic. Why? Are you?"

She grinned and shrugged. "I've got an open invitation. My older brother's the running back for the Varsity team. He and Duncan are on o.k. terms, so long as Danny brings enough beer." Grace closed her locker, sighing wistfully. "He's so athletic. If I didn't know what a jerk he was, and I wasn't related, I'd totally go out with him." She looked me straight in the eye. "There's just something about big, muscular legs and tight abs I can't resist."

Open invitation, in her own words. So she likes 'em ripped, huh? I can do that. "Well, that's good. I'm trying out for track, so if you want, you'll see plenty of that. I hear it's supposed to get really hot in a few weeks."

Okay, so I wasn't being very subtle. At least now I had an excuse for getting out of the after-school DR sessions. "So...you up for the party or not?" Grace needled.

She startled me; a little whip of silver crackled to life around my head and I batted it away. "Uh...sure. You drive?" I said, trembling. My stomach shriveled and I swallowed anxiously.

I had tried to sleep last night...I figured I should get my hour of sleep done for the month. It wasn't pretty. Somehow...I killed Grace. Blood everywhere. It seems that, in my desperation to get her acceptance, I murdered her when she told me to go away.

I'd been trying not to let it affect me much, but...I didn't dare to do anything with my winds around her. Just in case, you know.

She nodded and turned to leave. "Pick you up at quarter to seven, alright? Wear something nice!"

I can do this. I'm pretty sure I can do this. ...I don't know if I can do this.

I was waiting down by the gate, not terribly eager for the pathway training to spring into action and accidentally kill someone if she walked up to the front doors to get me. It's been on the fritz a lot lately. I almost lost a hand to one of those laser things...

Scott burst out of the mansion, shouting something to one of the New Mutants, and stopped next to me, panting. "Rough day?" I asked sweetly.

He glared at me and I held up my hands in surrender. Once he had caught his breath, he forced out, "Going to the party, Loki?"

I nodded. "Going to impress Jean?"

Scowling, he stalked off to the garage without answering. Lucky bastard, being able to drive...has his own car...he tore out of the grounds, a cloud of dust flying into my face. I waved it away, trying not to inhale and choke to death, and turned around sharply as an ear-splitting honk shattered my eardrum.

"What the hell?" I said, climbing into Grace's beat up old truck.

She gave me a half-smile and shifted the gears, pulling out of the driveway with a loud grumble of the engine. "My dad installed it. The original horn was really weak, so we installed one of the truck horns. Scares the shit out people. Tons of fun."

We rode in silence for a few minutes. I fidgeted a little in my seat, the images of that disastrous pep rally I'd been repressing flashing up, along with Grace's mutilated body. My lunch came very close to seeing open air again, unfortunately, and when we pulled up to the party itself, I was beginning to think this whole thing was going to be a bad idea.

I was right.

There wasn't one drink that wasn't spiked. Half the time the drinks were just beer itself. Drunk couples fled to bedrooms to grope in private. I flopped down on a couch, punch in hand, trying not to get sick.

Grace sat down next to me, a goofy grin plastered on her face. "Isn' this party great?" she slurred.

"Awesome," I groaned. "Can't hold your liquor or what?"

"Danny didn' give me any drinks. Promised not too."

I sighed. "Grace...I hate to say it, but you're completely out of it. Which means, I'm driving home!" On second thought, maybe it wasn't so bad.

No, wait.

She sighed heavily and draped herself across my lap. Yikes. "You know," she said, playing with a lock of my hair, "I knew there was something special about you when I saw you. You're so...exotic. But you're not. It's hard to explain. Like there's something different about you that you don't want to tell anyone. The way you carry yourself...how you keep to yourself, and only talk to the other people at Xavier's place."

I really didn't like where this was going. I tried to shove her off, but her bloodied body flashed behind my lids and I unconsciously held on to her a little tighter. "That's...um...nice. Thanks."

"You should trust me. We've been talking to each other for a few months now...sometimes, I wish I could just kiss you." She leaned up and pecked my lips lightly.

One the one hand, it was amazing. Soft and sweet, like I'd imagined our first kiss to be. On the other hand, I wanted to scream and run. Getting this close...it could only end badly. For both of us. I blinked and before I could say anything, she was knocked out, breathing deeply into my stomach. Damn it!

"Jeeeeeaaaaan!"

Oh dear sweet monkey balls, that can't be good.

Placing Grace gently on the couch, I darted out to the balcony from which the shout came. I found Jean, hand outstretched, concentrating on...I peered over the railing...keeping Scott from falling into the pool. Nice.

Before she could move him to the dryer areas of Duncan's yard, the blond brute himself showed up. I heard a faint cry of distress and a splash. Duncan and I looked over the railing to see Scott flailing around like a drowning cat.

"Little late for a swim, Summers," he said, amused. "Oh well. Saves you the trouble of getting washed up by me in track tryouts tomorrow." Track...hmmm...that sounds vaguely familiar.

Right. Promised Grace I'd try out.

Wait a second. I hate running! Why the hell did I say that?! I hate myself some days.

Scott pulled himself out of the pool and stomped off. I heard the roar of his engine as he sped back to the mansion. Which reminds me of something else...Grace is drunk and sleeping. How the hell am I getting home?

Damn it again. I was stuck bumming a ride from Duncan, who glared at me from the driver's seat the entire way. As soon as we pulled into the drive, I leaped out of the back seat, eager to let them have some private time for tonsil hockey.

I waited in the foyer for Jean to come. Call me paranoid, but even if she is obnoxiously perfect, I still live with her. The fact that Scott would BBQ my ass if she got hurt while I was a shout away didn't make matters any easier. She stalked in, fuming, red hair swirling angrily behind her.

Xavier appeared with Kurt at one shoulder, rolling forward as he mentally sensed Jean's distress. "Any problems?" he asked gently.

"None worth talking about," she snapped. Rolling my shoulders, I flicked off the image inducer and shook my head. Something in that field pins my ears down to my head and makes them very prickly and uncomfortable. It's a relief to get home these days. I stuffed the watch into my back pocket and buttoned it shut. That way I'd remember to take it back out tomorrow.

Kurt popped off to go finish his homework. I swear, that kid makes me look like a straight-A student. I was about to explain the happenings of the party when Rouge called, "Heads up!"

I turned around and about had a heart attack. Behind Rouge was her new punk friend, who was looking around in awe. I ducked down behind the Professor's wheels as the chick turned her eyes on me. "Whoa, does that kid have white hair?" she asked Rouge eagerly. "I gotta go see his stylist!"

I clipped the watch back on with shaking fingers, pressing the button. I felt that familiar tingle and winced as my ears were pinned flat to my skull. Now officially 'human', I stood and slouched past the pair.

Then, of course, as I was getting ready to reprimand Rouge, Kitty phased through the wall and stepped back in shock when Risty said, "How'd you get here so fast?"

"I think it is time that you escorted your friend outside," Xavier said firmly. Rouge, looking glum (well, more glum than usual), walked her outside and waved her goodbye.

And just in time, too. Logan popped a claw and snagged a pear off the fruit bowl, munching on it and reading the paper as he trekked back up to his room. I glared at Rouge. "Are you trying to blow our cover?" I snapped. "You might be able to pull the human look off, but this is supposed to be the place I can look like myself without worrying about getting stoned for being a freak!"

"There is a reason why we schedule visits in the mansion, Rouge," Xavier said. "You know that."

She glowered from under her bangs and down the hall, Jean shouted, "The Professor doesn't treat me any different!"

"Stay out of my head!" Rouge yelled, balling her hands into fists. "I didn't give you permission to snoop around in my thoughts!"

Jean poked her head out of her bedroom, a horrified look in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean too, honest!"

Now thoroughly pissed off, Rouge stomped up the stairs, down the hall, and slammed her door shut. Even down here I could still hear the echoes. I winced.

"Jean, are you alright?" Xavier asked, concerned. I would be too. She's kind of scary when she's mad.

She waved her hand, still looking freaked out. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said cheerfully. "Long day. I'm turning in early, night!" Her door slammed shut and I turned to the Professor.

"She'll be alright," I ventured. "School's been getting really stressful. With that championship match and the MVP award...she's probably just really pressured." Xavier nodded distractedly and wheeled off. Frowning, I left to make my nest of blankets in the rec room.

I'm beginning to think that, because the dreams seem to be able to learn, this one hour a month deal isn't going to work out well. They're getting more gory, more personal, more...invasive. I'd never guessed in my dreams I'd murder the girl I like. But, hey! What do you know.

I spent the night watching the cartoon version of the book I'd seen Grace reading in Chem today. On Demand Pay-Per-View is the best invention on the face of the planet. It also gave me a great excuse to not do my homework. What good is school going to do me when I'm a mutant? Once this whole thing comes to a boiling point, I'm lucky if I'll still be alive.

Grace didn't seem to remember the mini-confession session she'd given me at the party last night. Which was okay, because I think the hangover the next morning made up for her idiocy. She complained that she'd been grounded for a month for drinking and wasn't getting the volume of the...manga, I think, she wanted.

She threw her bag down and whistled loudly. I looked up from the football field to see her waving madly from the stands. I waved half-heartedly back at her, puffing on my inhaler. I'd decided that any type of running was out: I did enough in the DR to not want to do it here. So I stuck with the easy things. Shot-put, javelin throwing, that kind of thing.

Not five feet away from me, Duncan and Scott were both trying to impress Jean, who was stretching by the hurdles. Kitty was here too, doing jumping jacks and laughing with her friends. If I squinted, I could make out Lance watching from the opposite ends of the stands.

I flexed my arms, picking up a javelin, and listened with half an ear as Dr. McCoy (who also happened to be the coach-scary) instructed us on the proper way to throw the thing. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Scott gearing up when Duncan stuck his foot out.

Scott flew through the air, glasses tumbling off his face. A brief beam of red lanced out and half-melted a section of the fence. I winced; that would be difficult to explain. Luckily, no one appeared to notice. Everyone was focused on themselves, except for Duncan and McCoy.

"I won't tolerate that kind of behavior on this team!" the older man barked. He pointed to the exit gate and snapped, "Go on! And consider yourself lucky I'm not reporting you to the Board."

I let the javelin fall to the ground as I covered up my smile. But instead of falling like any normal gravity-bound object, it flew off like something fired it out of a cannon. It headed straight for the group of sprinters that had Kitty in it. I held out my hand, but hesitated. In that second, the ground trembled and the group fell to the track. Kitty looked up at Lance and smiled.

Blech. So much tangible affection, I'm going to drown in it.

Suddenly I was on the ground, pain exploding from the back of my skull and eyes crossing. Ow ow ow ow ow. What the hell hit me?

I rolled over slowly, trying not to throw up as I levered myself into a standing position. Balls were flying everywhere; people were running around in a panic. McCoy caught two with his bare hands and let them drop as he rushed to help me. I waved him off and took a step, only to trip on another javelin and sprawl at his feet in a heap.

Blearily I made out Scott blasting a shot-put about to slam into Duncan's empty head. Oh, sure, save the jerk. Who lives with you? Me. Who is a mutant like you? Me. Exactly. I forced myself to my feet, again, ignoring McCoy's attempts to get me to see the nurse, and stalked over. Well, stumbled over. Same difference.

Scott was talking in a low voice to Jean when I got over there. It was still raining iron balls on the field, but neither of them seem to care. Jean stiffened and moaned, "I can't control it!" She went limp. Scott heaved her over his shoulder, beckoned me to follow, and sprinted off to his car.

I lagged behind, still seeing stars. Scott revved impatiently and I threw myself into the back seat. "What happens if I throw up over your back seat?" I mumbled.

"You clean it."

"Okay. I can do that." And on that note, I lost my lunch. Most of it went onto the road because I leaned out of the window at the last second, but a second wave ruined my plan of 'try not to ruin Scott's pleather seats'.

"You okay? I saw you get beaned pretty hard."

"Oh, you know. The usual. I'm pretty sure I'll have brain swelling or something equally as bad."

"Alright then. We're here." Scott parked the car in front of the doors, cast a longing glance at the...messed up backseat, and led our strange procession straight into the medbay.

Good thing tryouts were after school, or else we'd be in trouble.

Xavier and Wolverine had to bodily remove Scott from the lab as objects began whirling around Jean. I got nailed again with a stapler and decided the floor was much more comfortable than it looked. The Professor slammed into the wall and slumped down. Oh, how lovely.

Someone tugged me off to the side and I watched (and occasionally giggled) as Rouge took part of Jean into herself, letting the excess of power drain into her. Jean's voice ripped from the southerner's mouth, a strange thing to listen too. Ventriloquism at its finest.

"Look at me," Scott urged. "Focus on me. You know me better than anyone else."

"I can't," Jean's voice sobbed. "It's too much, too much! Voices, thoughts, power! I can't!"

"Focus. Focus. Come on, Jean, pull through!"

The storm lessened, then faded away. That same damn stapler landed neatly in my lap and I sliced it in half, looking up just in time to see Scott dash from Rouge's side to comfort the crying redhead. Ass.

Everything calmed down after that. I got another triple-layered bandage wrapped around my noggin and got to skip school the next day.

Life was good. You know, except for the danger, the insane megalomaniacs, the constant fear of rejection...

You know, I think I'll stop tempting fate. I'm gonna shut up for the moment.

How smart I am sometimes.


	16. Carnival Gone All Crappy

**A/N: **Hello, faithful readers of my fanfic. Nice to see you all again. Nothing new to report: I'm really annoyed at life, it's still cold in the house, but I finished this, so it's all good. A thanks to those who reviewed in their heads, who put this story on their faves/alerts, etc. Please leave a review, I don't own, you get the drill. Lastly, don't be alarmed by Loki's thoughts later on in the chap. He's just feeling a bit depressed, that's all. ^_^

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You know what I hate about these New Mutants?

There's so damn many of them! I swear, every time I turn around, instead of just the one that's bothering me, five more appear out of thin air. And it's not just because one of them has some type of cloning power.

But you know the one, single, solitary chick that has the power to frazzle my nerves faster than even my father, may he rot in hell forever?

"Aren't you supposed to be rescuing us?" I snapped. "We've almost died twice."

"Aren't you supposed to be unconscious?" Boom Boom replied snidely, swinging the rescue-stretcher-thing back and forth, causing both myself and Kurt to come perilously close to falling out. Again.

"Ten points off," Kurt joked. "You forgot to strap us in!"

"No problemo, Wild Blue Wonder Boy," she practically purred. I grunted dismissively as she carefully pulled the straps over Kurt. I coughed loudly and gave her a pointed look.

"You got somethin' to say?" she snapped.

I gestured to myself. "Hello! Kurt's not the only victim, here!"

She smiled and flung one of her little bomb things at me. It detonated with a small explosion that rocked my stretcher back and forth. I snorted and closed my eyes. Should've known that she's a competitive little booger.

Boom Boom flung another, bigger marble bomb at me. It exploded, I went flying. I didn't really panic; the whole sim was just an elaborate illusion, right? The floor's right beneath my feet, and I'll hit it in a sec.

But after a solid second, about the time I'd guessed it would have taken my to hit the floor, I was still falling. As soon as the thought of 'oh crap I'm going to die because some idiot can't follow directions' passed through my head, someone grabbed my flailing right arm.

Hot damn did that hurt. My shoulder slid neatly out of its socket, and a faint scream shoved its way out of my chest. The sim shut off almost immediately and Logan, who had been waiting at the top of the 'cliff', leaped over and grabbed my arm. "This might hurt a bit," he growled, and I tried squirming away, but it hurt too much, so I just stayed still and panicked.

He popped my arm back in its socket and I let out a howl that probably had some wolves very envious. But, soon enough, the hurt dulled down to a mere ember of its former glory, and I stalked out of the DR.

"I think I liked it better when it was just the original X-Men," I muttered to no one, gingerly pulling on a shirt as I got ready for school. Aw, shit.

The school carnival was tonight. I wanted to ask Grace, but I didn't have any money, and what kind of guy invites a girl to go out with no cash? I can't win her any jumbo-sized stuffed animals like in the movies. What to do...

I poked my head out the door and spotted a random adult walking the halls. "Um, Miss Ororo?"

She turned around and gave me a very serious stare. "Is there a problem?"

"No, no," I reassured. Smiling slightly, trying to look nonchalant, I nodded and said, "So, um. You have a job, right? Can I maybe...you know..."

"You want to borrow some money."

I turned on the waterworks, hoping it would sway her. "Please! I wanna ask this girl I really really like and I can't do all the right stuff without some money! You've got to have some spare cash around here somewhere!"

She smiled slightly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I will lend you fifty dollars, but I expect to be paid back in full. I suggest you find a job in the future."

I could have kissed her. I did, in fact, getting her on the cheek as she handed me a small handful of bills. "See you later!" I shouted as I ran full speed out the front door.

Kurt was particularly downtrodden during the bus ride. I poked him and said, "What's got you all down? The carnival's in town!"

He shrugged. "I got in trouble for today," he said glumly. "Two weeks with no powers and double sessions with Logan." I shook my head and gave him my best condolences.

Sucker. That Boom Boom idiot conned him into waiting until I reached terminal velocity, just so I could get my shoulder yanked out. I dislike her very strongly.

I caught up to Grace at lunch, plopping down with a trayful of healthy junk from the lunch line. "Hey," I said.

"Hey," she said, waggling her eyebrows. "You alright? You're really seeming uptight lately."

Oh, no reason. Just my normal stress levels making me jittery again. Anti-mutant sentiment keeping you up at night with worries of the future? No? Must just be me, then. "I'm good." I leaned closer, inhaling the special perfume she wore. "What're you wearing today?" I said, oblivious to the slightly disgusted look on her face.

"Um, pool water? I had early swim again today."

"Oh." Okay then. "I thought the season ended in winter?"

"Naw, Coach is a bastard. He very kindly suggested to the board that the swim season be extended, so here I am." She laughed humorlessly. "But hey. I love it, damn it, so I stay." Forking a bit of some type of meat into her mouth, she chewed and swallowed and said, "Carnival's tonight."

I froze, suddenly nervous. I hadn't practiced how to ask! What do I do, what do I say? Do I lean over, catch her chin, and woo her with my rougish charms? Do I swoop her into a tango and ask through the rose in my mouth?

As it turns out, I jumbled the whole thing together and prayed she wouldn't make me say it again.

"Come again?"

Damn it. "Will you go to the carnival with me?" I mumbled.

She grinned and it looked for a moment like a lightbulb had lit under her skin. "Sure! I was hoping you weren't gonna chicken out on me. Do you need some money? I've got plenty from odd jobs-"

I cut her off. "No, I've got plenty."

I spent the rest of the day in cloud nine. Not even failing that Chemistry test I thought I studied for could bring me down. Well, when the Professor got ahold of my grades (if he ever did), then I'd lose my buzz, but as of now, I couldn't be happier.

Passing by the principal's office, I heard the one line that could bring me off my Grace-induced high. "Have you seen my daughter?" a rough voice asked. "Her name is Tabitha Smith?"

Scowling, I took bigger steps away from the private conversation to happen upon the girl herself. She looked around, then placed a marble in her locker and turned away. It went off with a small pop and I stepped forward, frowning.

"I thought you were banned from powers for a couple weeks," I said accusingly.

Tabitha fake smiled at me and threw her soot-washed locker open. "I couldn't get it open, so I took a shortcut. You know about those, or did it take you a while to get such a stick up your ass?"

Oh no she didn't. That's Scott's phrase, not mine. "No, but usually when Xavier dishes punishment, I listen," I said frostily, slamming the door shut. "When he finds out about this, he'll ground you so far you won't see the light of day for a long time."

How did I know? Been there, done that. I really dislike her. God! "Whatever. Feel free to call me when that prissy human girl finds out who you really are," she said, and flipped her hair over her shoulder as she left. "That wasn't even my locker!"

Well. That threw me for a loop. I shuddered, miming the classic 'ew cooties!' dance of the elementary years, and ran off.

I'd decided to stay after school, avoid facing my mutant peers, and just blow off homework all together until this thing started. It was pretty cool, actually. Quiet. Peaceful. Dr. McCoy let me retake that test after I explained what had happened, all the while cherry red from embarrassment. I got a B-, which is miles better than I thought I'd get.

Man. What a night. It started off badly, I'll admit, when my manly attempts to impress my sort-of girlfriend failed miserably. Because, as everyone knows, all carny games are rigged beyond all belief, which is why I finally let out my frustration with those damn milk jugs by knocking them over with a wind-powered baseball.

Grace got to lug around an enormous stuffed dolphin, which made me laugh. We spotted Jean and Duncan (ick) making kissy goo-goo eyes at each other (double ick) and later found Scott ignoring his date in favor of making kissy goo-goo eyes at Jean from afar.

Everything was going great until a faint 'bamf' caught my attention. I waved off Grace's attempts to force a slushie down my throat and went to check out the situation.

I sighed heavily and cracked their heads together. Tabitha and Kurt fell to the ground groaning, clutching their heads and moaning. "So care to explain why you two are porting around and disrupting my night out?" I growled.

"We were just having a little fun, Loki! Lighten up!" Kurt said. "Ever since your dad died, you've been this stick-in-the-mud, and it's really starting to-"

I lifted him bodily off the ground by his shirt collar and slammed him against the wall. "Starting to what?" I said softly. "Cramp your style? In case you haven't noticed, Nightcrawler, you and I have a lot to worry about if this mutant thing ever goes public, so I'd like to enjoy what time I have in this world while I can, okay?"

His eyes widened and I could practically see the wheels in his brain clicking. Damn it. I hadn't meant to use those particular words...

"You don't expect to live through this when the mutants are revealed," he said. "Loki, it's not going to be that bad!"

I looked away, scowling. "You didn't see her face," I muttered. "When she found out I was a mutant...I can't live through that again. I just can't, okay? So take your stupid girlfriend and go blow our secret somewhere where I don't have to be at risk, okay?" By the end I was shouting and I let Kurt fall to the ground with a thump.

"Loki, don't just walk away!" Kurt called, frustrated. "We can work this out, I'm sure."

I just shook my head and went back to Grace, who started up a deliciously normal line of conversation involving the Blob and an exploding hotdog. Okay, not so normal, because I know what made it suddenly do that, but still. It was a relief to be around something that didn't involve sci-fi mutant powers.

"Can we ride the ferris wheel?" Grace asked after a bit. "You'll need to comfort me, I'm terrified of heights." I couldn't tell if she was joking or not, so I agreed and made sure to hold her practically on top of me as we clunked higher and higher.

The entire device shuddered to a halt and we swung back and forth, staring at the night sky. Down below, the school kids looked like ants. I squish you, and you, and doubly squish you, jackass...

"Thanks for such a great night," Grace said after a moment. "I really had a lot of fun."

"Yeah." I was a little distracted. It looked like that one guy who was Tab's father was having an arguement with her. Finally, she hung her head and slunk off towards the main building. It should be locked, though, that's where all the money... is...

Oh. "Be right back," I promised and slid fluidly out from under the saftey bar. Grace was shouting at me as I put all my skills to good use (for once) to get down without a broken neck. I waved at her from down below and darted off.

I was running, dodging around people, spilling some popcorn on unfortunate people (suckers) and trying not to draw attention to myself. Of course, I was doing a very bad job. Should have walked, should have waited. Oh well. Doesn't matter now.

I met up with Kurt, Jean, and Scott at the entrance to the condemned gym. Oh, I must have forgotten to mention: Kelly decided that, after that freak earthquake, we should hold some kind of big fundraiser thing. The result was the carnival. Good incentive to get our gym back. Not.

Flicking my eyes back and forth, I stepped in, careful to make as little noise as possible. Kitty slid through the wall next to my head and I let out a little screech. There goes that plan.

"Seen anything yet?" I hissed.

"The Brotherhood's coming. Tab blew open the safe and her dad split but Toad snatched the purse and the whole group's heading our way," Kitty reported. I nodded and ducked behind a chunk of something resembling a bleacher.

Moments later, none other than Idiot-Who-Rumbles-Things-To-Death, Can't-Take-A-Shower, and Walking-Talking-Jello-Bowl came storming in, followed closely by Blond-Harpy and Blond-Harpy's-Father. I leaped out from my cover, yelling wildly.

The three Brotherhood members scattered, and I chased after Toad, waving my hands and making small bits of rubble disintegrate. It was really fun, a great stress buster. I recommend it.

Toad tossed the bag full o' money into the air, and I leaped for it. Because, you know, it's the right thing to do.

...Okay, I'll admit, I wanted fifty bucks so I wouldn't have to go get a job. It's not like they'd notice, right?

Wait for it...my X-Men instilled conscience should be kicking in any moment now...yep, there it is. Never mind. Bad idea, bad idea.

I missed. I fell. A spare chunk of wood speared into my shoulder and I rolled around for a bit, yelling and flailing and whatnot. Although, I'm pretty sure if I just sat still for a sec, my blood would've eaten away at it. Oxygen in liquid form seems to be a tiny bit corrosive to organic and nonorganic materials.

I yanked it out, pressing a hand to the still-bleeding wound, and shoved my way up the unbroken bleachers to where I spotted Tabitha's dad escaping. Seems that, of course, instead of one of the good guys grabbing it, he got it instead. Idiot.

I slammed open the door, gritting my teeth as that idiot and that daughter of an idiot verbally sparred on top of an obviously busted roof. "Hey, dumb asses!" I shouted.

They both stopped dead in their tracks and glared at me. "What?"

"Roof's busted there," I said, pointing. Mr. Smith looked down at the soft spot he was standing on and I laughed a little as he went shooting through.

Now that that's taken care of, we can take the money back down and I can go apologize to Grace. No, wait, life hates me, so of course the guy grabbed hold of a wire and was desperately clawing his way towards the fallen bag. Rolling my eyes, I batted it away with a gust.

He stared at me with a familiar look of horror and revulsion on his face. Before he could make a comment to warrant me slicing an unnecessary limb off, the thing he was holding on to gave way. He fell through and I collapsed.

Kurt ported up, concerned. "The Brotherhood're gone," he said as he popped me back to the school. I ran over to the bushes and lost my carnival food dinner. Smiling apologetically, he continued on. "Tabitha's already here. The Prof's been talking to the police. He wants to talk to us, too."

I stumbled into the front hall, where, lo and behold, Xavier was waiting. I held up my hands and said, "It wasn't my fault this time. Honest."

Tabitha stepped out from behind a column and instantly my demeanor changed. I don't know what it is about this chick, but she grates on my nerves by existing.

I glared at her openly. "I've been thinking, Baldie," she said, popping her gum. Can I strangle her? "This place really isn't right for me. My dad's locked up, true, but this place is full of stiffs."

"You will be welcome here whenever you decide to come back," Xavier said warmly.

"Yeah right," I muttered. The Professor shot me a glare so sharp I reached up to touch my nose in case the tip got sheared off. Tabitha waved jauntily and shouldered her pack, swinging her hips as she walked out of the mansion.

Kurt gave me a level stare and I scowled. "Fine, fine, I'll go talk to your stupid girlfriend," I grumbled, and made my way outside. "Yo! Boom Boom!"

She turned and cocked her head. "Ready to take that stick out of your ass?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, wincing as the wound I'd received flared with pain. "No," I said crossly. "I'm here to tell you that you're not the only one in the world who has had family problems and that running away won't solve anything. So when you're ready to face them, everyone here will help you through it. Happened for me, could happen for you."

She nodded hesitantly. For once, I think I'd scared the talk right out of her. The snark-less silence was nice and before I knew it, the shadows had covered Tabitha. I walked back inside to Kurt's hopeful look only to see his face fall when it was just me.

"Loki, you're grounded," Xavier began, and held up his hand to stop my complaints. "You used your powers at the carnival and broke their rules. Therefore, you will be joining Kurt for his two weeks of no powers and double sessions with Logan."

Aw, shit. I turned to head down to the med bay when something smacked me in the face. Metaphorically, of course. I whirled around and said, "Can Grace come over some time? Soon, maybe?"

Xavier had a thoughtful look cross his face, then nodded. "After your punishment is completed," he said sternly, and I nodded, elated.

So the date I'd planned didn't work out the way I'd imagined. That's okay.

I flicked on the t.v., reveling in the silence of the early morning hours. Solitude was nice.

It'll get better. I'm sure it will. Pretty soon, this whole mutant thing will come to light, and then I'll just go be a recluse until I kick it.

But until then, life'll be alright.


	17. Party Like A Mutant

**A/N:** Hello! I just had to get this episode out, it's one of my favorites. Thanks to all of you who read my last chapter, the person who added it to their alerts, and to my reviewer, demonlrd66. Remember, I don't own, please leave a review, etc. etc. Love you all! *throws boxes of chocolate and sci-fi novels*

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There are some days when you just want to run through a field of flowers, smiling and in your boxers, not even caring.

And then there are days where you just want to go bash your head into a brick wall so hard they'll have to call the CSI people to scrape your brains off and see if it was a homicide.

Luckily enough, it wasn't one of those days. No, today was a very good day. The sun was shining, it was finally getting to the point where I didn't need to wear my electric blanket pants to school, and Xavier was leaving the three senior students in charge while he took Logan and Miss Ororo to check on the Juggernaut.

Yes! Free reign at last!

I sighed happily and closed my textbook, already envisioning myself with my newly given power, lording over all other occupants of the mansion. I would be the monarch, Jean and Scott would be my enforcers, and I would get the New Mutants to be my jesters. Ha.

Grace dug her bony elbow into my side. "What's got you so happy today?" she said.

"Oh! The Professor's leaving for a few days to check up on his half-brother. I've been put in charge with Jean and Scott until he comes back. It's pretty sweet."

She grinned. "You should totally throw a party. I'll bring the booze."

The bell rang shrill in my ears and I stood up quickly. In my mind's eye, I watched her reach up from her position on my lap and place a vodka-laced kiss on my lips. I shook my head and said, "No way that's happening. Jean and Scott are total suck-ups. We'll be stuck inside doing homework and DR sessions until we drop."

Shit. I froze, and she gathered up her books. Walking to her locker, she asked curiously, "What's a...DR session?"

"Um, nothing. You know, just, like, a thing, to, um, help us stay in shape. Nothing, really, nothing special or exciting, it's like a requirement." Great. That wasn't subtle at all. She closed her locker door with a clang and peered at me out of the corner of her eyes.

"Oh. That's cool." She paused for a moment. "Why do you always wear that watch? It's so big and clunky." She rifled around in her bag for a sec and pulled out an expensive-looking tin. "I thought, maybe, since we're kind of going out now...I'd get you something."

I took the thing with shaking hands and opened it slowly. Inside was a sleek black watch, stylish and more my style than the inducer I was forced to wear. "Um, thanks, Grace, really, but it's...complicated."

She smiled and took the watch out of the tin. "Not really," she said cheerfully. "Take the old one off, put the new one on. Plus, you owe me for bailing at the carnival. You're lucky no one saw you, or you'd be in detention, or dead. Or dead in detention, take your pick."

I shook my head and tried to hand it back to her. "I'm sorry, but I can't."

The disappointed look in her eyes could have killed me. "You don't like it?"

"No, no, I like it, I really do! It's just, I kind of have to wear this watch, it's...um..."

She glared at me accusingly. "Well, if you like it, I'll just put it on for you! Hold still!"

Grace dived at me, surprisingly nimble for someone in combat boots. She grabbed hold of my right arm, and had managed to unhook the thing when I spotted my salvation. "Oh, look! Scott!"

She twisted my arm around and slammed me up against the locker. I could see almost the exact same thing happening with my errant leader as his girlfriend tried to see his eyes. Hun, they're a lovely shade of pink-red and they'll blow you to hell and back without being filtered first!

I could feel the familiar tingle as the watch separated from my skin. Panicking, I flipped my hood up and, still facing the lockers, grabbed my inducer from Grace's hand. I clipped it back on and turned around.

"Fine!" she shouted. Her face was a blaze of red. "If you didn't like it, then you should have just told me! Jackass!"

With that, she stormed off. I put my face in my hands and slid down until my butt hit the floor. "Damn it," I hissed to my knees. I'm beginning to think today will turn out to be a brick-wall-meet-brain-matter day.

I took the long way to the computer lab for my next class and almost just had a child in my excitement to see Kitty and some other freshmen dorks hogging my monitors. "Scoot!" I barked and bodily threw them off the chair.

Next to me, Kitty shorted out the tower by accitdentally phasing through it. I rolled my eyes and continued on with my paper...that is, until she shorted out mine as well. Then a third.

Growling, I turned my sights on the dork on my other side. He was deep in some kind of virtual game. I wanted to smack his pale nerdy ass. So I did.

He fell backwards, not hurting himself, and gave me a confused stare. I smiled and sat down, restarting my research. Then, to add sugar to my sparklypoo morning, everyone got thrown out because Kitty shorted out a fourth and fifth computer.

Now thoroughly angry, I stalked out of the computer lab with major intents to find a brick wall when I stumbled upon our favorite pair fighting with claws. Me-ow.

"I wasn't spying, if that's what you're implying," Jean said hotly, planting her hands on her hips.

"I never said that." Sunlight dawned on Scott's face. "You were spying, weren't you? You're jealous!"

Scowling, Jean walked off in a huff. Scott, ever the devoted lapdog, followed behind. I hid my snickers behind a hand as I trekked the halls, desperate for something to do. Lunch was a no-go, with Grace being angry and the research put on hold. So, now what?

"Yeah, but what about Jean and Scott?" It was Evan. He'd learned to stay away from me very quickly, and thus, I didn't talk to or about him much. Anymore, at least.

"I've already got a plan," Kitty said assuredly. "This is gonna be one awesome party!"

Then, as I bopped out from around the corner, Risty cut off her sentence. "Sweet! Be there at-"

"When?" I asked sweetly. "Because of course you wouldn't throw a party without inviting me, right? Huh? Huh?"

Kurt gave me a nervous smile and shrugged. "Well, it was Kitty's idea. And we figured you'd be cool with it."

Am I that bad of a role model? Don't answer that. "Whatever. Break anything and you're in the DR for five hours with me."

Risty gave me an odd look, but didn't question me. Odd.

Our little group broke up and we very sneakily shot Looks at each other passing in the halls. Finally, before long, the final bell rang. I spotted the person I was looking for in the rush of high schoolers. "Grace!"

She turned, shouldering her pack, and scowled. "What do you want?"

"Turns out that we're having that party after all. Wanna come?"

It was like invisible monkeys stripped off her old face and a happy Grace poked her head out and said, "Yeah. Yeah, I'd love to. I'll be by the mansion at six, okay?"

I didn't know when the party was gonna start, but what the hell. Can't hurt, right? "Sure. See you then."

Ah, back to the meadow. I rode the bus home and spent the afternoon in a fog of happiness. Is this what love is? It's pretty nice. Like floating.

Kitty, Kurt, and Evan worked their tails off sealing the DR from intruders, setting out chips and pop and throwing random bursts of confetti into the air. Everyone was pumped. I let a little of the fog seep out my ears and asked the nearest person, "So, Scott and Jean are...?"

Kurt looked at his watch and about had a heart attack. He 'ported out and I looked at the two, confused. "He's taking care of them," Kitty assured me.

A second later, the blue fuzzy dude reappeared holding two cell phones and a set of car keys. "They'll be stuck walking, and it's the farthest place I could get them to go, so we've got a while."

We all exchanged high fives (well, they did, I watched) and the doorbell rang. The party had begun.

Freshmen streamed in through the open doors, gabbing and laughing. More and more trickled through and someone popped in a rap CD. Feeling slightly disappointed, I turned and was going to pout in my room when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

"Hey," Grace said, smiling. She threw her hands in the air and twirled; a camo skirt flared around her.

"Never seen that before," I said, appreciating the view. Very nice, very nice. "You should wear skirts more often."

She laughed. "Oh, stop it!" Still grinning, she gestured to the stairs. "Wanna give me a tour?"

I grinned and took her gallantly by the hand, pretending to be like a prince as I led her to my room.

On second thought, after I led her in, maybe it wasn't the best idea. It was tremendously messy, with dirty clothes strewn everywhere, posters half-falling off the walls, and a seasoned air of unused-ness around the bed. True; I hadn't slept in it for about three weeks. Which reminds me...gonna need to fit that hour in sometime.

"Nice place," she remarked. I winced. "Only marginally less messy than my place, but so dusty. Shame."

I grabbed her hand again and led her right back out. She giggled a bit and I felt a surge of daring pass through me. "Wanna see the DR?"

Something inside me was screaming 'This is a really really really bad idea, even for you!' but I ignored it. Grace watched with an open mouth as I led her to the only elevator that takes people down that far. When we got out a minute later, she was running around, waving at her reflection.

It made me smile and ignore that voice that wouldn't go away.

I keyed in the password to open up the doors and led her inside the big open space. She laughed and twirled.

"So where's the equipment?"

"What?"

She gestured to the emptiness. "You said it was like, exercising and stuff, right? So where's the equipment?"

Oh, so smart. Me, not so much. "Well, you see...it's retractable."

She gave me a very suspicious look and said, "It's...retractable."

I nodded. She glared.

"If you wanted to get me in here to rape me, well, sorry to burst your bubble, but I've taken about fifty self-defense classes. I'm safely going to say that if you try anything funny, I can kick your ass."

The statement startled me into laughter. Then, because she has a temper like that, she took three big steps towards me and kicked me in the crotch. I went down like a sack of potatoes, stars bursting in my line of sight. "Oh, that hurt," I wheezed.

"Yeah, and there's a lot more where that came from, bub," she said smugly, and cracked her knuckles.

A low beeping noise caught my attention and I turned my head, searching for the noise. After twisting around on the floor, I found the source to be none other than my watch. "...the hell?"

About fifteen of the guns detached themselves from the walls. I shot to my feet and grabbed Grace's arm. Damn it! I'm going to need my puffer if this is going to happen. Damn damn damn. I knew, I knew this was a bad idea, but noooo. Had to listen to the freshmen. Couldn't take responsibility.

She tried to tug out of my grip but I held fast, dodging expertly around the shots. My lungs tightened and I made a snap decision somehow I'm sure I'll regret later.

I grabbed Grace's head and shoved my lips onto hers. Her eyes fluttered half-closed and it was nice, warm, fuzzy bunnies. While that was happening, I was carving out a bunker in the wall. Because not even these walls can stand up to the sharpness of my winds. How bad ass is that?

Not really. I forgot that, after the first few times, Xavier replaced it with some kind of stuff that doesn't break as easily. So here I am, carving jagged slashes in a wall, lip-locked with my girlfriend while massive guns fired very real ammo at us.

Life's good some days.

Grace mustered up enough anger to pull away from me. Then she slapped me. "What the hell was that for?" she snapped hotly.

"Sorry," I said, and thumped her on the head. She slumped to the ground, unconscious. Thank God for small miracles.

I tucked her away, where hopefully she wouldn't get hurt. I fired off a rapid burst of blades which struck true; the guns fell useless to the ground with a loud clatter. Then, the voice of God echoed through the room.

"Oh, that's not fair," some nasal voice whined. "We're supposed to destroy them, but they have powers?"

"What the hell?" I said, my jaw dropping.

"I'll just turn it up to...five? Sounds about right. Bye bye, kid!"

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. The snake-sims came, and some type of claw thing, and suddenly Evan and Kitty were there, and all hell was breaking loose. It was a madhouse, mutants running around, trying not to die...you know, an average DR session headed by some snot-nosed brat with a good eye for computer systems.

Evan was splatted against a wall and out right after Kitty ran straight into a wall. Ah, good times. I was huddled over them, trying to breathe right, when a snake-arm gathered momentum in slow-mo right before my eyes.

I closed my eyes, unwilling to believe death was upon me already, when a familiar sensation filled me. We were teleporting, me and Evan and Kitty. I cracked an eye to find myself staring at the unflinching Super Duo, Jean and Scott, both of which looked very cranky.

"Um, I left my girlfriend down in the DR...can I go get her and escape the lecture?"

They both glared at me, did a once-over of the now trashed mansion, and shook their heads. Kurt disappeared and popped right back with Grace slumped in his arms. He set her on a couch nearby and ducked his head, waiting for the reprimands.

"What do you have to say for yourselves?" Jean said finally.

"Sorry that we tricked you into leaving so we could throw a party," Kurt mumbled. Scott turned to me, waiting.

"Well, I'm sorry-"

Metal sheets slid down over the windows, blocking off the outside. The doors were locked down as well, and general panic began to set in. Red lights began flashing and the conscious members of the X-Men looked at each other in confusion.

I peered at my watch where a smaller light was going off. "Defcon 4?" I read. "What's that?"

Scott muttered something under his breath and took off full speed for the sub level elevator. "Someone's hacked into Cerebro!" Scott explained. "We need to get down there fast. It could be Magneto or Mystique..."

We burst out of the elevator, Scott and Jean and Kurt and I, jogging the opposite way we'd normally take to go to the DR. Our leaders stopped in front of a heavily barred door. "Stand back," he warned, and prepared to take off his glasses.

But before he could do anything, live wires burrowed out from underneath us and attached themselves to our skin. How many volts we got zapped with I'll never know, but man that was painful. I opened my eyes to find myself on the floor, the smell of charred meat hanging around us. I forced myself to my feet, ignoring how everything tingled unpleasantly and shook my head.

"Damn it," I swore softly. Everyone else was out. Stupid Institute and its stupid self-defense mechanisms. I glared at the door and held my hands out, preparing to slice my way in.

Which is why when my watch gave a feeble beep and the doors opened, I almost sliced the idiot kid's head off. With the last of its power used, my watch died and my true face came out.

"Whoa," the freshmen said. "That's one powerful character. Maybe this is like an online RPG?"

I smacked him upside the head. "You idiot!" I snarled, and ripped the helmet off his head. "You could have killed us!"

He held his hands up in surrender and smiled like he was talking to a crazy person. "Dude, relax. It's just pixels, I'm sure you can get that design again!"

My temper snapped. I lifted him by his shirt collar and slammed him up against the monitor. A whimper of fear escaped from his tightly closed lips and I grinned. Leaning close to him, I whispered, "Contrary to popular belief, freshman, not everything is a game. I am real, real as you are. Now I suggest you never tell anyone about this, or I will be visiting you in the future and taking off a hand." I bared my fangs and he flinched. "You only need one hand to survive, right?"

His eyes rolled up in his head and he fainted. Ah, such good handiwork. I've almost forgotten what it felt like to intimidate people into doing my bidding. I dragged him out of the room and gathered my semi-awake teammates and made the trip upstairs where, surprise surprise, Xavier was waiting.

I tossed the gamer kid on the floor and propped the rest against the wall. "They got zapped," I explained. "Will they be okay?"

He nodded distractedly and pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. I couldn't help but stare a little as he ordered a taxi for the kid, who he called Webber. What a name.

All the party-goers had been booted, Webber was sufficiently scared enough not to talk about tonight, and Grace had stormed out while I was being fried. I made a mental note to talk to her about the disaster that was tonight and tried to sneak off to my room.

"Not so fast," Xavier said. I froze, wincing, and turned around to face him.

"Yeah?"

"I gave you responsibility of the house and you let the younger children have a field day. It will take a while before I will entrust anything else of such magnitude to you again. You are grounded for a month, no powers, no seeing Grace, and triple DR sessions."

I gaped. Triple? What's he expect me to do, practice instead of do nothing while everyone else sleeps? Ew, no.

"Gotcha," I said sullenly. I turned to go up to by room and sulk when he said something that made me very worried.

"This was a planned maneuver by someone who wanted our files," Xavier said, steepling his fingers. "I will be keeping an ear out for anyone who mentions mutants. Now, run off and change. You have a private session in half an hour."

Scowling, I did as he wished.

The guy's smart, I'll give him that. But sometimes he needs to loosen up. I wasn't looking forward to the next few days, let me tell you.

But hey. That's what it's like here. You get used to it, eventually.


	18. Implosion of Life

There is nothing more sleep-inducing than the droning of a teacher. Any teenager worth their money will agree with me. I covered a yawn with my hand; next to me, Grace glared and scooted farther away.

"The best thing about unstable molecules is..."

Something pinched in my chest. I'd overheard her asking Dr. McCoy for a partner transfer, but he refused unless she gave him a reason. At least she didn't tell, I thought to myself. At least she didn't tell.

Someone snickered and something connected with the back of my head. I turned around, glowering, and spotted Evan.

That kid...hell, every kid is getting on my nerves lately. Children...teenagers...I dunno. Must be my loner instinct coming back.

Evan coughed loudly and held up his hand, wiggling around in his seat impatiently. "Can I use the bathroom, please?"

McCoy huffed but let him leave. Jerk.

Even I could tell he wasn't coming back.

He talked for a few more minutes about the various joys of unstable molecules (which, shoot me if I'm wrong, I find slightly uninteresting) before stopping suddenly. He grabbed his chest and my concern rose a few hundred notches. Don't people only do that if they're having a stroke?

God, what if he was dying?

"Read the chapter and do the section review questions," he ground out. Nope, he's fine.

He staggered out, muttering under his breath. I gave him five minutes, then crept out behind him, ignoring the disapproving looks of my classmates.

I stood outside for a sec, thinking. If I was having a spazz attack, where would I go?

Stupid question. I'd go hide myself away in the Blackbird and hope it passes. So, if this guy was anything like me...he'd go for some secluded place. So, bathroom?

I stuffed my hands in my pockets and headed down to the men's room, hoping no one caught me. It's a four hour detention with no pass, and here I was, passless...I slipped inside and heaved a sigh of relief. Safe...for now.

My mouth dropped open. Instead of a normal bathroom, complete with swirly-fied freshman begging for help, there was a couple inches of water and a sink wedged in the opposite wall. All was deathly silent.

Until Kelly came. "Young man!" he exploded, glasses askew. "What is the meaning of this? If you think this is some kind of...of prank, well, rest assured, destruction of school property will not be tolerated!"

I held my hands up. "I'm one kid, man!" I shouted back, pointing at the clearly ripped piping. "You think I could do that?"

He gave me a heart-stopping stare and I froze. He seemed to dissect me and I shivered nervously. It was almost like...like he knew I wasn't human, and he resented me for that. I swallowed and edged out of the bathroom, the splashing water filling the harsh silence.

I practically ran back to the class, but half-way there the bell rang, so I just turned in the opposite direction and headed for the bus. People crushed in around me and no matter how much space there actually was between us, I really couldn't breathe. I started wheezing and dug around panicked in my pockets only to remember, of course, my pack was at the mansion because I walked out without it.

Damn.

So here I was, wheezing my way into a full blown asthma attack, feeling tears prickle my eyes. No, stupid things! No matter what is going on in my life, there are so many things that could go worse.

Grace could be dead. Then you'd be an antisocial hermit.

I could be dead. Actually, that'd help.

I shook my head. No. Bad thoughts.

I opened my eyes, which I hadn't realized I'd closed in the first place, to find myself standing alone in the parking lot. Aw, son of a bitch. While I'd been standing around, having a panic attack, the buses had left without me. I love my friends. They're so...friendly.

Evan blew past me, laughing. I imagined him blinking in confusion, applying the mental brakes, putting the pieces in place...and, voila, he turned around and paused in front of me. "You okay, man?"

No. "Yeah," I said. "Missed the bus, though. We're going to get so chewed out for missing the DR session."

He laughed, and I wanted to strangle him. "'S okay." No, idiot, it's not. You'll get chewed out and I'll get grounded again for not exercising my authority (which is practically non-existent at this point) and making him come home.

Slouching, we stood around in awkward silence for a little bit until I shrugged and started off. "I'm going home," I muttered. "See you there. If you come home, that is."

Scowling, Evan caught up with me and flicked his skateboard up into his hands. "I'll come too," he declared, waving bye to his friends.

I snorted and ignored him. We were going along at a steady clip, watching birds and snails pass us shouting in their squeaky animal voices 'My grandma walks faster than you and she's dead!'. Something sounded off to my left and I stopped.

"You hear that?"

Evan shrugged. "No."

It came again. Louder, more insistent. And...Shakespearean. Joy. "What is that?" I said, slightly disgusted. That guy holds no love from me, let me say. Waaay to many big words.

"I think it's Dr. McCoy," Evan said. "I'm gonna go apologize, okay?"

Before I could stop him, he had leaped through the bushes lining the side of the road and disappeared. I poked my head through and found myself in the old amphitheatre. No one had ever told me about it in those exact words, but it was a good place to go talk in private.

And just like that, the pieces clicked. I think I just figured out how to get Grace back. I'll tell her everything. No more secrets. The place is secluded enough, we should be alone.

I was grinning madly and by the time Evan climbed out, slip of paper in hand, I was floating again. He waved a hand in front of my face which I ignored, and shrugged, grabbing my sleeve and tugging me along back to the mansion.

True, we got yelled at for skipping. True, I did end up getting grounded for not bringing Evan home sooner, and also true that I slept exceptionally horrible that night.

I'll spare you the gory details but, suffice to say, it involved me and Grace, and she ended up a pile of flesh and meat. I awoke screaming, and everyone gave me their double-unhappy glare.

The next morning, I was unfortunate enough to be held hostage by these evil robot things. No one tried very hard to free me. Still pissy over the last failure. Everything wavered and disappeared; I flopped to the ground, exhausted already. Evan had gone skipping...again.

"Hey!" Speak of the devil. "Sorry, my alarm clock broke and my uniform was missing and-"

Storm cut him off. "You're making a habit of this," she scolded sternly. "Now, as a result, we will be doing this over after dinner." Everyone groaned and I let my head drop onto my chest. Half of my sim was to escape, damn it! Those things pack some punches!

Evan winced and rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Oh, and Kitty, there was a package outside for you. I left it in your room."

She scowled but nodded and we staggered out to get ready for school.

Ah, there is a God. He obviously loves me, because today was swimming in gym, and there's nothing more lovely than watching a woman do what she's good at. I realize that can be taken several different ways, but think with less of a gutter mind and you'll understand.

She surfaced and lifted her goggles, shaking her head and spraying me with freezing cold droplets. Nearby, men were drooling over Jean, who swam laps with practiced ease. Is she amazing or what? Gag me.

Grace caught sight of me and glared. She seems to be doing that a lot lately. "What do you want?" she asked acidly.

"I want you to stop treating me like I'm a bad guy," I snapped back, crossing my arms. "And I want you to stop shaking water all over me. I'm still dry, thank you."

My watch, regrettably, wasn't waterproof, so Xavier gave me a medical excuse to get out of swimming. Too bad.

She snorted, smiling a little, and replied, "Well, you thumped me pretty good the other day, and I suppose you're lucky I don't remember that night much at all." So that's why she didn't tell. She didn't know. "But I'm sick of you keeping secrets from me. I like you, Loki, I really do." She grinned, kicking to stay afloat, and sighed wistfully. "But I can't do this."

I nodded eagerly. "I've been thinking. How about we have a talk? Tomorrow after school sound okay with you?"

"Where?"

"The old amphitheatre. It's like ten minutes of walking. I'll even let you take a flare, if it makes you feel comfortable."

Grace nodded and pulled her goggles back down. "Okay." Then she took off, weaving around the kids playing basketball as she swam.

Someone grunted from behind me and I turned to see McCoy, yet again, clutching his chest. He panted harshly and I saw his mouth moving furiously. I stepped over the bleachers, careful to avoid the lazy no-dressers, and put a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

Dr. McCoy's head swung around and for a second I thought I was staring down at an animal, wounded and frothing. "It's okay," I muttered nervously. "Um, everything's gonna be okay, you just need to calm down, and think. Think Shakespeare, I remember you saying how much you like it. Okay?"

I waved Jean off, relaxing as McCoy calmed considerably. He tweeted on the whistle and I left after making sure he was alright. That was odd.

School flew by. I mean, I'm pretty sure I missed a bit of homework, and maybe I failed a test or three. But I was full of anticipation, ready to get this horrible weight off my chest and, damn myself for even hoping, still have Grace to anchor me.

I was lounging around in the rec room, trying to determine if it was worth the effort to get up and attempt to do any of the work I missed when I heard the voice I'd least expected to hear...almost ever.

"You've got to help me, Charles," Dr. McCoy pleaded. "It's getting worse! I can't control it. The medicine I've been taking is starting to wear off. I'm losing control. I almost hurt two of your students, and all they wanted to do was talk to their teacher." I got the sense he put his head in his hands and was down on bended knee. "Can you do anything? Anything at all?"

Xavier sighed and murmured, "Let me look."

Everything came to a crashing halt. Xavier let McCoy know he was a mutant? Did he know we were mutants too? Shit!

I leaped up, throwing off the blankets and diving for cover behind the safety of a wall. Better to listen in on conversations, though the Professor always seemed to know when I was there. Damn him and his telepathy.

There was an anguished howl and a sharp inhalation. "I'm sorry, Hank," Xavier said quietly. "There is nothing I can do. You must find the will to control the beast within."

Dr. McCoy said something softly I couldn't catch and the door closed with a muted click. I closed my hanging jaw and returned to the rec room, surprised as hell. Something was obviously up with our teacher, but why wasn't the Professor telling us?

Maybe it's contagious. Maybe all mutants have an inner persona that clambers for control. Knock knock, am I sharing my skull with anything freaky? When no one answered, I shrugged and burrowed deeper into the couch.

The night was fairly boring. I got to play hostage again and managed to actually escape, though I got tagged with a shock-volt that left me partially paralyzed for the better part of my evening. Kurt ported me onto the table in the main dining hall as a prank and I just kind of laid there, doing nothing. I felt empty, as odd as that sounds.

Fear left me. Anger left me. I didn't even feel excitement as I regained the use of my limbs and crawled stiffly out of the room. I guess I was too nervous to think, so I didn't.

I flicked on the early morning news, sucking down a cup of illegal coffee. Nothing special on, so I was about to turn it off and go wake up the house when something caught my ears.

Kelly again. "It was huge, lumbering, walking on its knuckles like an ape. It appeared to be covered in blue fur, but it could have just been the lights. I startled it and it tried to attack me, but I managed to frighten it off using the fire alarms." He chuckled lightly. "Sorry about that. Got the department all worked up for nothing."

"Anything else to add, Principal?"

He shook his head, his glasses going slightly askew. "I found our new Chemistry teacher's lab coat. I'm not sure what to believe, if it was him or not, but he was always in there, mixing and making...or it could have eaten him. I don't know, like I said."

"Thank you for your time, sir. In other news..."

Oh snap. I bolted up the stairs, intent on grabbing the rest of the X-Men, but Kurt grabbed me mid-run and took us both down to the foyer. Everyone was already there, suited up and ready to rumble. "Dr. McCoy..." Evan mumbled.

Scott nodded tightly. "Cerebro's got a point on him. He's running all over, wreaking havoc. We need to get him and bring him back here, alright?"

I nodded and behind me heard the faint _snickt! _that was Logan extending his claws. I twitched violently and he snickered at me. "Didn't mean to scare you, bub," he sneered. I think someone hasn't had his daily dose of alcohol...

We ran out of the mansion, spreading out as we fanned through the various neighborhoods, looking for our guy. I put a hand to my ear and muttered, "Junkyard cle-"

I slammed into the ground, the harsh grit of dirt beating out the bite of blood. "Found him," I croaked.

McCoy picked me up, tossing me into a pile of trash like a rag doll. Groaning, I levered myself out and swung my hand around in an arc. A wedge blasted out and slammed into his chest, launching him across the lot.

I grinned. "He's out," I said. "Repeat, I think he's unconscious." A roar caught my attention and I cursed, stumbling blindly to the side to avoid the strike. Clods of dirt fell from my hair and I cursed again. "Never mind! Help!"

Kitty and Jean showed up, coming to rescue the fair prince in distress. McCoy growled loudly and bounded towards them, obviously intent on causing someone harm. Before he could seriously hurt them, Kitty let him fall through her and crash against the fence.

Jean held her arm out and he struggled vainly against the chain-link metal. I sighed and sat down, inhaling gingerly. My ribs felt fairly bruised. Overhead, the sun burned brightly. I raised my eyebrows in surprise; we were missing school. We'd lost track of time trying to find Dr. McCoy.

Logan burst out from the bushes, claws extended. Snarling, he launched himself at the pinned down beast. "I can't hold him-!" Jean gasped. Sweat dripped from her brow and she fell to the ground, practically comatose.

The two men fought for a moment, but Logan overstepped and the beast took immediate advantage, grabbing Logan around the middle and throwing him into the forest. Clear snaps and thunks could be heard and I winced. That's gonna leave a bruise.

I forced myself to my feet, clutching myself around the middle, watching helplessly as the man grunted and shot out of there like a bat outta hell.

"Damn it," I hissed. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

I kicked angrily at a hunk of metal and howled indignantly as I hopped back, clutching my foot. My stomach grumbled angrily and I was reminded that currently, I had missed lunch and hadn't eaten much to sustain myself on.

Speaking of which, I checked my watch and gasped. "Gotta run!" I shouted to Logan, who limped out from the hole he'd put in the fence.

He tried to stop me but I was already gone, running for my life. I didn't last long before I pulled out my puffer and wheezed through the bushes into the ampitheatre to see Grace sitting there, swinging her feet and looking bored.

"Loki?" she asked, concerned. "Are you okay? What's wrong? And why are you wearing that?"

I shook my head and bent double, trying to catch my breath. "Sorry," I said after a few minutes. "Big stuff happening."

She let her hand slide into her pocket and came out with...a flare. I didn't think she'd take me seriously when I said that. Girls and their paranoia. Makes mine seem paltry in comparison.

"So spill," she ordered.

I swallowed, sitting down. This was the moment I'd been dreaming about: I tell her, she rejects me...my throat closed up and for a moment, I couldn't speak. "Well," I started, "the truth is, I'm a-"

A roar split the air and we both started. People rushed past me and a streak of blue flashed next to me. "GRACE!" I screamed.

He shook his head, and blood frothed from around the wound in her leg. Her head flopped around weakly and I lost it. Slashing my hands out, I watched as a monster blade shoved its way through everything in its path. A column collapsed, its base torn through, and landed on McCoy, who flailed around, bellowing as his prey flopped out of reach.

Tears blinding me, I rushed forward and pressed my hands onto the ragged gash. Behind me, Evan was repeating something, trying to soothe the beast. "No, no, no," I chanted. "No, come on! Stop bleeding, damn it!"

Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I whirled around, covered in blood, grime, and tears. Xavier stared calmly back at me, his eyes boring into mine. "The paramedics are here. You stopped the bleeding, Loki. She's going to be fine, but you have to go home now, understand?"

Leave her? I couldn't. She'd die. I knew it. I couldn't trust anyone. If I left her, she'd die, or she'd leave, just like my mom did, like Spencer did, like my dad did. I couldn't trust anyone.

Logan pried my fingers off from her leg and guided me back to the back roads, leading my shell-shocked self back to the mansion. Someone slid a mug of something warm into my hands and I stared blankly at the carpet.

Slowly but surely I regained the ability to think and not freak out everytime Grace's pale face, drawn in pain, flashed behind my eyelids. I stood and all eyes locked on me.

"You gonna be okay?" Evan asked slowly. "I know she was your girlfriend, but she'll be okay, right?"

I shrugged. I didn't know. They'd taken me away before I could talk to anyone about her. I let my feet take me where they wanted, not caring, not focusing on anything.

Running water caught my ears and I blinked slowly, poking my head around the corner. I froze, instantly on the alert. But Dr. McCoy just stood in front of the mirror, scrubbing away. He muttered something and I leaned closer to hear it.

"It won't come off..."

I stepped forward, my hands held out. "What won't come off?"

He sighed heavily and turned. His eyes were filled with pain...from what? "The blood. I hurt that young woman. I...I couldn't stop myself." He held out his hands, scrubbed practically bald. "And now, it won't come off."

I shifted nervously. I felt bad because I really liked her and she got hurt when I could have done something to prevent it. But Dr. McCoy...he hadn't been in control of his actions. Scowling, I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I may not trust you after what happened," I said coldly, getting no pleasure from the small flinch he gave. "But I know you weren't yourself when it happened. It'll take a while, but I'll warm up to you."

He nodded, visibly downcast, and walked out around me.

I later learned that he was going to be a teacher here at the school. I about threw a fit and had to do double sessions for a week because of the mess I made, but in the end, Xavier let me go to the hospital where Grace was being held.

I sat numbly at her bedside, just kind of staring at her face. It was really freaking pale. Didn't they have blood for stuff like that? And why wasn't she awake yet?

As if to answer my silent question, her eyes fluttered open. I sagged in relief.

She was going to be okay.

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**A/N:** Nothing new to say. Thanks to all you who read this, review this, favorite it, or alert it. Leave a comment, a critique, whatever. I don't mind. I've been thinking...who wants to see a little competition for Grace's heart? First person to suggest a name gets a cameo. 'Bout time you had as much fun as I'm having with this. ^_^ Don't own, blah blah blah. Review!


	19. Hospital of Horrors

**A/N:** Hiya! Nothing much to report. Thanks for reviewing, you know who you are, um...stuff. I dunno. Not much action, just stuff happening, and also, the competition for Grace begins. I don't own X-Men. Also, please don't kill me when you read his name. *cowers* His reaction is about mine as well. ^_^ Leave a review with some ideas. This is kind of a hodge-podge, with a plot, but plenty of room for fun stuff too! Any ideas will be credited, so feel free!

* * *

I hate hospitals. Hate the smell, hate the needles, hate the noise. Hate everything. I hate how Grace is lying there, just breathing, how I've been sitting here for a few days and she hasn't woken up. I hate how I'm not good enough for her. Not normal enough.

A nurse slid through the open door, clutching the medical file nervously. I stared at her, unblinking.

It's actually kind of fun pestering the nurses. They've tried to get me to leave multiple times, but I just stare them down and they stammer an apology. I think they think I'm her brother, or something. Not her boyfriend.

Her mom is nice. A bit on the short side, wiry, with flyaway hair. Brought along her boyfriend and he made some stupid joke about how it runs in the family even though people do it all over the world, and it's really not that unique. They sat and talked, I stood and stared. They left. I didn't.

"Young man?"

I turned my head slowly, still alert. "Hm."

"None of the doctors have seen you eat or drink anything, nor have any of the other patients. We'd like to see if you're dehydrated or not. You've been here for two days." Oh, stupid sick people. Spying on me for the doctors.

"I'm fine," I replied monotonously. "Nothing's wrong."

The woman brushed her hand against my arm and we watched in silence as my skin didn't just fall back like it was supposed to and held itself up in a weak, tenty sort of way. "You're really dehydrated," she fretted. "I'll go get an IV."

No. The wheels slowly turned in my head and eventually I remembered I didn't have normal blood and, most likely, it'd just dissolve the needle. Huh. Life's funny like that. "I'm fine," I insisted. "It's always like that. I have naturally low levels of water. Please, I don't need any help."

She chewed on her lower lip for a second and finally gave in. "Alright," she warned. "But if you collapse, I'm going to say I told you so." She flipped through the chart, taking Grace's vitals and making small noises. "Good news!" she said and I perked up immediately. "She's got a high enough white blood cell count that we don't need to give her another transfusion." I smiled. Medical jargon notwithstanding, that sounded good.

"Okay. When's she going to be waking up?"

The nurse paused. "Well, we're not sure. Medically, she's fine. But it's possible she might be traumatized by the wolf attack." I laughed bitterly. Of course. How could I forget? The ever-present cover story. Not as if we couldn't tell people that Bayville High's Chem/Gym teacher turned into a murderous beast that attacked my girlfriend. Heaven forbid.

She gave me a strange look and unhooked the bag of blood from the pole, taking it to who knows where. I grabbed Grace's hand and, because I'm stupidly sentimental like that, I started talking to her in the hopes she'd wake up.

"You know," I started softly. "I was really nervous when I first came here. It was just me and my dad, you know? I met a lot of people, and got transferred to Xavier's, and...well, I'd rather tell you my biggest secret when you're conscious." I snickered to myself, running a clammy hand up Grace's arm. "I remember when we met. I ran into you that one day you were passing out flyers for the Dracula play."

Was it just me, or did her eyelids twitch? Maybe this talking really does bring people out of comas.

"We've done lots of fun things. I think. Gone to parties...gone to school stuff...I keep wanting to open up to you, but it's so hard to trust people. My dad's been dead for a few months, now, did you know that? Of course not. I didn't announce it to the world. It didn't matter, no one would've cared anyways."

Her hand tensed in my grip. I kept going.

"I've gone on a lot of crazy adventures, but I can't really talk about them until you know the truth. You know, you're like something that's keeping me here. I can safely say that you're the most important person in my life right now. You know, I can imagine you and me...just hanging out. For a while."

Grace's lips moved and she whispered, "Did you miss me?"

I let the tears drip down my face and nodded. "Took you long enough," I croaked.

She reached up and tried to sock me but her hand shook so badly that it kind of flopped on me. I pretended to be hurt anyways and she grinned weakly. "So..." she said softly. "I'm gonna have such a killer scar. And I'll get out of swim, too." She laughed.

"Wolf got you," I said. "Not rabid, thankfully, but still dangerous. Came down from Canada-"

"You mean Canadia."

"-and jumped you. Sorry." Because it's my fault. Always my fault.

Before she could come up with another smart-aleck remark, my watch beeped. I covered it quickly but it still came out, muffled and insistent. "One sec," I said, and escaped out of the room. Once in the hall, I ran a hand through my hair and started poking buttons, trying to make it stop.

Something flashed across the screen. "Hawaii?" I said in confusion. "Why would they want me coming?"

I chanced a peek outside and groaned. Just what I needed to add to my wonderful, guilt-filled day. Snow was floating down and piling in thick, wet, and most importantly, cold drifts. I shook my arm and muttered, "Psychic idiots."

Hm. This watch must be a special thingamajig, because I'm fairly sure no one else's watch does the things like mine. Texts, messages, opens doors in the mansion...and it still tells time. What a wonder. I poked some buttons impatiently, politely declining their offer (well, my thoughts were more about where they could take their offer and what orifice they could stuff it up) and returned back to the room.

"Took you long enough," Grace groused, folding her arms across her body. She opened her mouth for another biting retort, blinked, and shut it with a quiet click. "Whoa."

"Whoa what?"

"What kind of drugs am I on?" she wondered. "I must be hallucinating."

I reached a trembling hand up to my ears. Instead of being punned flat to my skull the way they were supposed to be, they stuck out slightly. "Shit," I hissed. I stabbed at my watch and Grace giggled.

"You're funny," she said. "You know? I must be on some good pain meds. Whew!"

Oh, joy. Now she's gone bloody loopy. I reached back to pull up my hood and cursed again when I remembered that, two days ago, it'd been warm enough to just chill in a shirt.

My eyelids fluttered and I slumped in the plastic chair. I faintly heard someone shout, "Shut that window before my patients freeze!" before all the strength left my body.

Unfair. It's never been this bad before...unless when Magneto 'evolved' me, this got evolved too. Perfect. Something brushed my arm and I fought to open my eyes. It felt like someone had dropped a ten ton weight on my stomach.

"Loki, are you alright? I'm the injured one," Grace joked. "Love the new 'do. Gotta say, it's really unique. Never seen anyone with hair that color."

People were shouting all around me. I was panicking, trying to get my unresponsive body to move, stand, do something! But it refused. I imagined it laughing and taunting me and that only served to make me angrier when nothing was happening. "Damn it!"

Someone grabbed hold of my arm and I twitched indignantly. "Let...go!" I snarled, baring my fangs.

The person recoiled and I caught a glimpse of startled blue eyes and a flash of dark hair. The person watched with interest as I writhed on the chair, unable to stand or move my arms enough to knock them out with a wind blast. My arms locked together with a click; they had handcuffed me! Like I was some kind of criminal!

"Let me...go...or else..." I panted, but the guy simply lifted me up like I weighed nothing and dropped me on a hospital gurney thing and rolled me away.

"Let him go!" Grace hollered, throwing herself out of the bed. "I swear, if you hurt him..." A nurse tried to calm her down but was forced to use a tranquilizer, inserting the stuff right into the IV line.

That was the last I saw of her. Lights flashed overhead and I groaned. This is honestly the last thing I needed right now. To be held down and dissected like some frog.

Whoever the hell is up there, if you let me go, I swear I'll boycott live dissections. Honest.

"Unsure what kind of blood..."

"IV line disintegrated..."

"Unusual facial deformity..." What!? My face is not deformed! I resent that!

The doctors stopped, chattering away in their doctorly way, and I felt warmth return to my limbs. It was a gradual process, starting with my fingers, but after a good ten minutes of thawing, I sprang to my feet. The bunch drew back in fear and I hissed warningly.

One of them stepped forward, holding his hands up. "Hello," he said, slowly and clearly.

"I'm not an idiot. I understand," I spat.

He blinked and relaxed somewhat. "Oh. Well, care to explain what you are, exactly?"

"Care to take these-" I raised my shoulders up and down, turning slightly so they could see the cuffs "-off?"

"I'm afraid we can't do that," he said sadly. "You're potentially a danger to society. We've alerted the government, so they should be arriving sometime tomorrow."

I swore loudly and kicked the monitor over. It tumbled to the ground with a crash. "Why did you do that!?" I screeched. "You- you- ugh!" I continued on my mad rampage, kicking things over and generally making a mess. I saw one kid take out a notepad and start scribbling down stuff. Still very pissed off, I dived at him.

The first doctor, who I decided to call Dr. Dumbass, blocked my body with his own. I rammed him headfirst in the stomach and flew back, reeling. God damn, abs much? He grunted and sat on my chest, motioning with his arms for another pair of cuffs to be placed around my ankles.

Now thoroughly stuck, I wiggled a bit and snapped, "Get off!" I bucked my hips and he rolled off, panting. I levered myself back standing, panting harshly.

"Alright," he cautioned. "Let's not get too violent, alright? My name is Jasper Warton. Nice to meet you."

Besides the fact he was exchanging pleasantries with a guy he'd just thought about taking apart from the inside out, he seemed way to young to be an actual doctor. "I don't believe you," I scoffed. "You're too young. Is Daddy here, watching you play pretend?"

Dr. Dumbass frowned, the first negative sign I'd seen from him this entire time. "I'm twenty, thank you very much. I graduated early and passed med school fast, alright? Get off my butt."

"Aw, too chicken to say ass? Here, let me. Ass, ass, ass. That's what you are. Let me the hell go!"

"And I said-"

"Jasper?"

Everyone gaped and turned around. There, leaning heavily on the metal pole sick people drag everywhere, was none other than Grace. Her eyes shone brightly (maybe it was the drugs) and she practically tackled Dr. Dumbass.

"Grace? Oh, wow, I haven't seen you in forever!" he said, kissing her on the cheek. Jealousy burned within me and I entertained the idea of slicing an arm off. "You're so big! And...jeez, what happened to your leg?"

She laughed, running a hand through her hair. "You know, got attacked by a wolf. Nothing unusual. You still that freaky genius kid I knew from way back when?" He nodded, suddenly bashful.

I coughed loudly and they focused on me. "Um, hello, still immobile here?"

"Loki?" Grace gasped. "Is that...really you?"

Think fast. When in doubt, lie yourself into the next decade. "What, me? No. I don't know who this Loki person is, though he sounds like a dashing fellow. In fact, I'm just a visitor with a severe bunch of...um...you know, medical stuff going on. Acidic blood, facial deformities, colorless hair, all that jazz."

Wait a second. Something clicked in my brain and I said in an incredulous voice, "Jasper? You mean that guy from those vampire books?"

He did something I've never seen anyone do. Well, a doctor, anyways. He came up and punched me in the face. I went twirling to the ground in some macabre imitation of a ballerina, trying to stem the flow of blood gushing out of my nose with a shoulder.

"Do not associate me with those filthy novels," he seethed. "Everyone says that when I say my name! I've had girls I don't even know come up and ask if I can control their moods! God damn it!"

Grace put a hand on his arm and he calmed down. "Asshole," I muttered.

Okay, so there goes that idea. Maybe I could get him so angry, he'd beat me into unconsciousness and when everyone left, I'd escape. Wait, that wouldn't work.

As I thought, people talked, and trickled out of the room I stood in. Dr. Dumbass shoved me down onto the bed and made sure that, after removing the binders, my hand was securely attached to the bars on the sides of the bed. I tugged moodily at it while he sat down to keep an eye on me until tomorrow. We'll see if he lasts that long.

Warton and Grace chatted for a while, catching up. It really irked me how her boyfriend (me) had just brought her out of a coma and here she was, talking away to some old friend, not even concerned where he went. It hurt, actually, that she'd forget me so easily, that she hadn't put the pieces together and got me being the bedside watchman. I chalked it up to drugs. Stupid junkie alcoholic girlfriend of mine.

I closed my eyes and slipped off into sleep, unbidden and unwanted.

What seemed like moments later I snapped awake, sitting rigidly upright, mouth open in a silent howl of pain and misery. Someone clamped a hand over my mouth and I bit down reflexively. The person withdrew their hand, hissing in pain, and I tried to leap out of the bed and attack, only to fall short when the tiny chain held strong.

"Loki, enough!"

Xavier, finally come to the freaking rescue.

"He bit me!"

And Scott.

"Sorry," I grunted. "Want to explain what the hell is going on?"

Xavier undid the lock with a mental twitch and I rubbed my wrist, just to make it look movie-esque. "Kurt was fooling around with the inducer," he said finally.

"And how did that make mine short out?"

"They're connected. He fiddled with it and it drew out the power of yours, making it fail. I'm very sorry, but until this blows over, you're going to have to stay home during missions." What!?

I snarled, "Hell no! Those are the only things keeping me sane!"

Scott piped up, "I have to agree with him there."

I glared at him and frowned. "Why are you wet?"

"Went down to Hawaii, got caught in a storm. Long story." Right, because that's so much worse than my experience with the reactions of humans. Jerk.

"Can we just leave?" I said, impatient. "Is the snow gone?"

The pair nodded and we walked out. Just for kicks, I cuffed Jasper to the bed. We set off, me snickering quietly, the Professor and our fearless leader Cyclops at the head. He drove us home in the company van, taking everything nice and slow. Xavier took my watch and in less than a minute had me back to normal.

As normal as it gets, at least.

I flopped impatiently down on the couch, flicking through the channels. My mind plucked the problem of Dr. Dumbass out of the numbing channel-tornado. What was I going to do? He had money, he had smarts, he had a title, he had...a normal life.

What did I have? Powers. People out for my blood. Friends that goofed off to hide their own pain. I couldn't offer Grace stability, or happiness. Maybe...

Maybe I should let her go.


	20. A Very Crappy Christmas

**A/N: **Nothing to report. Good sized chapter, review please, thanks for putting this on the alert list or favorites. ^_^ Happy Saturday, too. I don't own, don't sue. Ideas welcome. With that, on to the chapter!!

* * *

I'm beginning to think that being anything less than completely ecstatic is a high-profile crime here. Sure, everyone has their grumpy days (Jean, 'that time', and telekinesis don't mix), their kill-me-now days (mostly me) and the very rare screw-the-world-I'm-going-solo days (yet to be witnessed), but in the end, happiness wins.

Oh gag me with a spoon.

I was curled up on the end of the couch, sitting stiff, trying to ignore how much fun people were having. Somehow, though, they were intent on dragging me into their holiday celebrations. Don't get me wrong, I'm a Christian (kind of) like some other guys, but at the moment I was debating whether or not to claim paganism.

'Cuz I'm going to hell anyways, might as well make sure my seat's reserved.

"Come on, Loki, you've got presents!" Kitty insisted, prodding my arm. "Well, a present," she amended.

I sent her a Death Look (patent pending) and she blanched. "No thanks," I replied frostily.

She skittered off, falling like a bird of prey on her own pile of parcels. Lucky enough for her she actually has relatives who love her. Or just relatives, really.

Kurt burst in, sending some of the New Mutants into a frenzy as he held a sprig of mistletoe above his face. Next thing you know, he'd be wearing it on a headband. He's weird like that.

I switched my moody glare to the edge of the wall, half expecting it to burst into flames. But that, sadly enough, is not a power I happen to have. So, I settled with slicing an ornament in half. Glass tinkled lightly as it hit the ground and the occupants of the room turned and sent me a questioning look.

"Just open your shit," I snapped.

Their eyes widened to the size of saucers and I was reminded once more of that bastard, Warton. Stupid doctor with his stupid washboard abs and his stupid geniusness. I just wanted to scream whenever I thought about him and Grace.

Something fell down into my lap and I started violently, tumbling off the couch and landing with a yelp on the floor. Jean gave me a humored smile and strutted off. Flushing, trying to retain some semblance of my dignity, I ran a hand through my hair and flopped back, regarding the parcel with a paranoid eye.

Too small to be an explosive, unless I'm behind on the times. Fairly light; not a death threat in the form of a small dead animal. I shook it lightly. Not a whole lot of noise...now I was curious.

I tore the paper off, discarding the festive colors as so much trash. It was a plain cardboard box, nondescript, with my name on it. Swallowing, I opened it.

A cell phone. A slim, nice, black cell phone. I picked it up with trembling hands and flicked it on.

One number was already in the contact list.

Mom.

The Professor was extremely surprised when he rolled into the room to see a flying black object streak past his head and clatter to a halt somewhere in the kitchen. Satisfied, I settled myself back into my little nook, wincing as I accidentally bit through my lower lip. Ignoring the eyes of Xavier boring into the back of my skull, I flicked on the tube.

Only to see my ugly mug taking up the entire screen. Shit.

"Bayville citizens are urged to keep an eye out for this dangerous man," the newslady warned. "This is his picture. As you can see, he is a medical mystery, and government doctors are eager to see if the disease is contagious."

I know I don't look that good, lady, but it's not a disease. My eyes narrowed as Dr. Dumbass appeared on the t.v., looking pompous with clipboards in his arms and sounding harried.

"He was stunned by the cold, and his blood was acidic to the point that the needle dissolved when we tried to hook him up to an IV. He was violent and verbally abusive, and somehow managed to escape and leave me cuffed to the bed." At least he had the good graces to look sheepish, I noted. "He's dangerous. Be careful."

"Thank you for your time, Dr. Warton. Now, in other news, citizens of the Big Apple have been claiming to be rescued by a mysterious angel-like figure..."

I turned it off in disgust. Oh, if I could just get my hands around his neck...I'd take an unhealthy pleasure in watching his eyes pop out like a stress-dolls'. I looked over my shoulder and blinked curiously. Instead of there being a bunch of people, it was just Scott, Rouge, and the Professor.

Oh, the joys of having no family. Christmas all alone.

"Loki," Xavier said gently. "I understand you're angry with me-"

"Understatement of the goddamn century, baldie."

"-but that's no reason to refuse to talk to your mother."

I snorted. "Hey, you remember that whole thing with my dad? I lived with him for ten years. I haven't seen Mom since I was six. How would you react if I strolled up and was all like, 'Hi, I'm your son! Don't be alarmed by my pointed ears, my white hair, my silver eyes, or my powers. And, while you're at it, disregard everything the news has said about me. I'm really nice.'" I laughed bitterly.

"That is beside the point. I have taken the liberty of speaking with her and you will be going for a visit tomorrow, while Rouge and Scott investigate the angel. I believe he is actually a mutant."

My mouth dropped open and I leaped over the couch, coming to a disbelieving halt in front of Xavier. "You what!?" I shouted. "You- you- you interfering bastard!" I whipped my hand around and watched as the tree tumbled to the ground in a clash of glass and wood. I continued to pound it into little splinters and only stopped when I was panting and the room was dead silent.

Finished, I stalked out of the room and stomped my way up the stairs to find something else to trash. I slammed the door to my rarely used room and started throwing things. Despite what parents say, it actually helps get anger out faster than anything else...except maybe a DR session. But I'm not going down there.

A hesitant knock wrenched my attention back to the present and I flung out my hand, knocking half the door to pulp. Scott raised his eyebrows and said simply, "We're going by charter bus. Come on." Snarling, I threw some random clothes into a bag and followed behind him.

We met up with Rouge, who started a conversation I wasn't included in, and walked down to the edge of the driveway where, lo and behold, an enormous Greyhound sat idling. I climbed on it and sat as far away from the pair as mutantly possible. I stretched my legs out and was about to stare aimlessly when something beeped quietly from my pack.

The bus rumbled and took off, jerking me back slightly as I scrambled for the beeping noise. When I found the source I about had a fit: the phone was ringing. The phone I'd thrown out of my sight, back in my bag. I could just kill him!

I ignored it. It rang nonstop for a few hours and people were starting to stare. I was just reaching to answer the damn thing when the bus shuddered to a halt. Catching Scott's eye, he nodded and I fought my way to the front of the bus through hordes of screaming people.

We were on a bridge somewhere...I guess I never knew how far Bayville really was from NYC. Or course, in my studious ignoring of everything, we could have gone to Jersey and back. I don't know. I pushed my way past a bunch of people talking amongst themselves and stumbled to a halt in front of an accident.

Blood was pooled underneath the wrecks of several cars that looked like they'd been put through a blender. I swallowed and bowed my head for a sec. Respectful, you know. An overweight man on my right nudged me with his elbow and pointed.

"It's the Angel," he said, awed. "He saved my daughter, you know. He's a miracle sent from God."

I rolled my eyes. "God doesn't exist," I muttered. "Either that, or he takes sick pleasure in watching us ants squirm under his heavenly magnifying glass."

The man glared and shuffled away. I cast my eyes upward and saw...a guy flying. Yep, I'm gonna go with mutant. No one has bird wings like that unless they're like us. Angel (white wings and the media don't mix, especially this time of year) swooped down heroically, rescuing a little girl from the clutches of certain death. He held her aloft, wings spread wide, smiling brightly.

Suck up.

Slight movement caught my attention and before I could react, Angel tossed the girl over the edge of the bridge. Disbelief flooded my senses; that look of pure horror couldn't be faked, no matter what. Something made him drop her. He dived over the side a moment after and we all waited with baited breath for him to reappear.

He did, the little girl in his arms sopping wet. She cradled her arm to her chest and sniffled loudly, burrowing her head into his stomach.

"I saw it! He threw her in!"

And, just like that, the seeds of doubt were sown. People muttered all around me and someone pulled a twisted bar of iron out from the wreckage. The obese man frowned and cracked his knuckles, advancing forward.

I licked my lips, feeling the minute stings from where they had cracked. What I thought of was incredibly stupid, would draw the mob's attention away from Angel but onto me, and would likely end up with me in the hands of the government. But that girl...

And here I don't even like kids. At all. Damn small children and their manipulative natures!

Without stopping to glance at Scott (he'd likely kill me if he knew what I planned to do) I flicked up my hood and smacked my watch against a beam. My ears tingled and I reached up and itched them; in doing so knocking down my hood. So no one could connect my human face to this one.

A woman screamed in a high, shrilly voice. "Look, look! It's that freak from the news! He's dangerous, someone call the police!" I swear, IQ drops in a crowd. Accidents mean ambulances which mean police escorts. I rolled my eyes and tried to look...menacing, would be the best term. I bared my fangs lazily and she bolted off. The mob, still eager for blood, turned their sights on me.

"Now, now," Angel said, touching down next to me, child still in his arms. "There's no need for violence. I'll take this girl and the wanted man to the hospital, alright? Just calm down."

"You really have that much faith in them?" I hissed so only he could hear me. "They've already proven that they'll turn their back on you in a moment's notice. And you'd put me in their tender mercies for wanting to live free?"

He frowned at me and sighed. "I am their hero. I will do what is necessary." His eyes widened and he had the beginnings of a warning on his lips when stars burst behind my eyelids and I dropped to the ground, limp and bleeding.

I saw that same goddamn fat man grinning snidely, clapping an iron bar he must've picked up somewhere along the lines against his open palm. My meager breakfast forced its way up my throat and I barely restrained myself from getting sick. Men in blue swam into focus; I vaguely felt something click into place, holding my arms behind my back.

As I was being dragged into the closest police car, I faintly saw Scott and Rouge trying to get to me.

Then I lost consciousness, because someone whacked me in that same spot again and the pain was too much to take.

* * *

It was fuzzy, my recollections of the ride there. Didn't matter; I was stuck in the back of a police car, assumed to be the carrier of some kind of deadly disease. Or a criminal, because they sure as hell weren't gentle as they dragged me (sadly a literal term) up to the only open room.

Stuck, of course, with that brat that screwed me over in the first place. And yes, I am blaming her for my problems. Makes living with the knowledge I did something for the greater good much more bearable. Sorry if I'm not the righteous superhero people expect me to be, but oh well.

I tugged slowly at the handcuffs keeping me in the bed, debating whether or not to just cut through them and be done with this. In the end, though, the need for secrecy about the powers aspect won and I settled in for a long night...until Scott and Rouge tracked me down, at least. Though I saw a lot of story-sharing and diner-inhabiting before they remembered the third party.

I huffed quietly, failed to cross my arms over my chest, and listened to the rhythm of the little girl's coughs. Apparently she'd developed pneumonia. Wonderful.

"This is awful," I muttered. "I hate hospitals. I hate that Angel idiot..." I entertained myself with a list, systematically banging my head against the headboard.

Before long, a nurse came in, armed guard in tow. She sent me a nasty glare, to which I waggled my eyebrows suggestively. Blushing scarlet, she hurried over and checked over the brat. The guard, unibrow and single-digit IQ, stared me down while she busied herself. Once she was done, she shied over to my bed.

"Hey, slut," I said cheerfully. "Come to poke and prod or flash me?"

She gasped, covering her revealed cleavage, and pressed white knuckles to her lips. Steel glinted in her eyes and before I could wish to take the comment back, she slapped me. Hard. Then, to add insult to injury, she stabbed the crook of my elbow with the needle. Also hard.

I gasped in pain and jerked away...but, being chained to the bed, didn't get far. "What the hell was that for?" I screeched indignantly. "It's just gonna dissolve anyway! Don't you watch the news?"

She lifted her chin haughtily. "We'll be bringing you in for tests in an hour. Don't get too comfortable." With a flick of her too-permed hair, she bounced out.

Damn women. So confusing, sending out messages only to bite you in the ass for reading them. I was so deep into my mental ranting I hardly noticed when Angel swooped in through the window and landed quietly.

"She's got pneumonia," I said bluntly. He started and narrowed his eyes.

"Why are you here?" he replied haughtily. "You're not sick, and the only thing you could have is a concussion, which doesn't usually need an overnight stay."

I smirked and lifted my arm, showing him the metal that bound me to the bed. "I'm wanted. Duh."

His face drained of color and he reached out blindly to grab something for support. He found the windowsill and covered his face with his free hand. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean- I didn't think-"

I waved off his half-assed apology and decided, screw it. I'm done here. I turned my fingers as far in as they would go and released a sharp little bullet. In moments, I was free, letting the nub that used to be a needle fall off my arm and I stood, stretching. With one tap, I returned to human and Angel blinked, alarmed.

"It's called an image inducer," I said quietly. "It gives me a human face so I can go to school and go out in public and stuff." I walked over, rubbing my wrists, to where he was standing. "I'm Loki. What's your name? Your real name?"

"Warren," he muttered. "Warren Worthington." He hesitated and unfolded a coat from out of nowhere. "Do you want to go to the church with me?" he asked softly. "Think of it as an apology."

I laughed callously. "I'm not sure my faith would stand up to that." Mostly because I think God has a vendetta against me, but that's a personal thing. "But what the hell." Worthington pulled off his mask and tucked in his wings, expertly hiding himself under the bubbly rich-kid facade.

We strolled out, cool as cucumbers, passing by bunches of police officers and hospital staff who'd discovered, apparently, the 'mystery guest' was gone. I gave the frantic woman who'd stabbed me in the arm a smug smile and she gave me a confused stare in return.

Scott spotted me half way there and fell into step behind me, watching with awkward eyes as we ascended into the cathedral. I assembled a bored look as Worthington went off to talk to the parents of the little girl. I flopped into a pew and watched the church-goers curiously.

Dad was never much of an active Christian, so this was a bit unfamiliar. I figured, what the hell. It's around that time of the year when God listens, right? So, shoot. I folded my hands together and closed my eyes, moving my mouth ever so slightly as I prayed under my breath.

"Um...hey. I guess. You know who I am. Not much of a good guy, I know, but...if it's not too much trouble, I'd like you to help that brat get better, so Worthington stops worrying. And make sure that Warton gets a stick shoved up his ass. And please make me normal again. Um, thanks. Bye."

Something collided with the back of my head, again, and I turned around sharply, staunching the blood before it destroyed my good sweatshirt. My eyes settled on the helmet-clad asshole I loathed and I whipped my arm across the open space, flinging a blade at him. Laughing, he dodged it and threw-yeah, I didn't see it coming either-Warren on top of me.

He's light, but those wings add a bit of weight. I toppled to the ground and tried to shove him off. He was bound, however, and we didn't accomplish much. There was a lot of limb flailing and I cut his arm wide open trying to get the chains off, but in the end, we were up and alright. Mostly.

It was over by the time we got out. Rouge was nursing a bruised ego and head, Scott was comforting her, and Magneto was long gone. Probably off trying to recruite more hopeless mutant cases. I sighed unhappily and frowned.

"Now what?"

"We go home," Scott answered. "It's Christmas Eve. We should get home in time."

Cyclops tried to invite Worthington back to the Institute, but the bird-guy declined and once again, we were back on the bus. The same one, in fact, we'd fled before. It even had my forgotten bag, which I hoarded protectively the entire way home.

We disembarked after a few hours and trod obediently inside, where Scott got some kind of telepathic message and scooted off, Rouge in tow. So I was left standing, all alone, in the foyer. This can't be good.

A figure stepped out of the shadows and smiled warmly. "Hello, son."

I took one look at her and, I'm ashamed to say it, fainted from shock.

Mom.


	21. Are You My Mother?

**A/N:** Sorry for the long time between updates! As a present, here's 4k+ of fun. Don't own it, don't sue. Leave a review, please, I'd love it much. And, just to prove you read this stupid thing, what was your favorite line? Part? Least favorite part? You know the drill. Also, I'm thinking I've developed an obsession with Transformers. -sigh- Wish me luck.

* * *

I think that my mother is stalking me.

It's a crazy thing to say, because parents are supposed to do that kind of thing, but when one of them is dead and the other one shows up after ten years of being dead (for all intents and purposes)...it kind of screws with you. I've been so jumpy lately. It's driving me, and everyone I hang out with, insane.

Grace shot me an annoyed look, lowering the cardboard health bar that was her lunch and leveling a smoking stare in my direction. "Spill."

"Spill what?" A slight noise caught my attention and I twitched, twisting around in my seat to try and find the source. Nothing but bushes and groups of talking teenagers. Ah, the joys of eating outside. Ambushes are lurking around every corner, my paranoia whispered. Everywhere.

"Whatever the hell's bugging you so much," she wheedled. "I'm your girlfriend. Shouldn't you be able to tell me what's bothering you?"

I wish. I'm a mutant, I'm pretty sure someone's aiming to kill me, my mom is insane, my dad is dead...the list goes on.

"Nothing's wrong," I said, waving away her protests. "I'm fine."

She cocked her head, squinting. Before I could ask what she was doing she pushed her face up close to mine. I blinked, confused.

"You're a good liar," she said finally, settling back to the normal personal space boundary. "Not as good as my brother, but pretty good."

I stifled my first reaction (knock her out and run away), instead opting for the socially acceptable method of laughing and switching the topic. I was starting in about the insanity of my math teacher when motion out of the corner of my eye made me twitch again.

It was just Evan...flying magically off his board, landing in an ungraceful heap at the feet of the other insane guy here at this school. Kelly.

I dislike that bastard very much, not only because he's a prejudiced idiot, but because he gave me detention for something I didn't do.

Kind of. Long story.

A twig snapped and I whirled around, hand held out. "I'm getting tired of this, Beth," I snarled. "Or should I call you Mom?"

Grace turned around, staring intently at the bush I was threatening. "Nothing's there, Loki," she said. "Are you crazy?"

Nothing moved. Feeling my face begin to burn, I returned to my sparse lunch, meekly making conversation until the lunch was over.

The bell rang in short order. I kissed Grace lightly on the cheek, wishing her a good afternoon, and was just walking towards the building when someone tackled me. Not kidding.

It was Beth, a.k.a. Mom, a.k.a. Insane Person Number One.

Oh, you thought I was lying, didn't you? My family takes dysfunctional to an entirely new level.

"Hi, son," she said cheerfully, pushing a chunk of dishwater blond hair out of her hazel eyes. My hair, my eyes. If I was that kind of person, I'd rip them out. But I'm not that kind of person. Thus, case closed.

I was too busy being crushed under her to answer. She might not weigh much, but she had gravity and a killer history of tackle football backing her up.

"Now, I know I've been gone for a bit," she continued on, sitting on my chest and getting comfortable as I struggled to breathe. "But I'm back, and I'm here to stay. So, get used to it. Who was that girl you were with? She was cute. Kind of mannish, but oh well. I'm sure when you get married your kids'll be fine."

I shoved her off my chest. Rocketing to my feet, I watched as she rolled and crouched low to the ground, probably getting ready to tackle me again.

"I'm leaving," I spat, gathering up my scattered books. Beth waved cheekily at me and I stomped off.

Only to get busted by Kelly for being late.

Life hates me. I think it does, honestly. I failed a test in math, probably missed the dates for a few more, and completely demolished a table in chemistry (actually pretty funny, because the sub about had a cow when I gave her my most impassive 'do I look like I even give a shit?' stare).

Before I was ready to go jump off a building, it was time to go home. I waved bye to Grace, who rolled her eyes and shrugged, and was about to board the bus when something ever-so-gently hit me on the back of the head. Rubbing the injured area tenderly, I turned around, already knowing who was there.

Beth, Mom, whatever the hell I should call her. She was lounging in an open convertible, flaunting her richness. She married a rich guy, I guess, and sued him. Then divorced him. Now she has all the money and he...well, I don't care about him.

"I've been told not to accept rides from strangers," I snarked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm not a stranger, you lived in my vag for nine months. Get in, I'm giving you a ride back to the mansion."

Eloquent and blunt. Maybe that's where I got my sarcastic personality from. I hopped in, closing the door, and she reached over and seized my wrist. Before I knew what she was doing, she'd shut off the inducer.

I ducked my head, growing angrier by the second. "What the hell?" I hissed angrily. "I've got white hair and pointed ears. Don't go doing that again." I flicked it back on and sat up, thankful that the button worked just as well as it did for me as it did for her. And that it worked at all.

"I'm your mother, shouldn't you wear your normal face around me?" She pouted, roaring out of the parking lot and taking off at breakneck speed for the mansion. I think we out-drove some birds. Or airplanes.

"I get it. You gave birth to me, you're my mom. Stop saying that." I swung my head away from her, glaring out at the roadside flashing by.

"Just reminding you," she sing-songed as we skidded into the driveway, screeching to a halt. I vaulted out of the vehicle, not even bothering to open the door, and stalked into the mansion. Damn Professor and his damn policies of making up with every living family member. Insisting that having her stay here is better because I'm slowly but surely going to go bonkers.

That's just how I roll.

Eager to avoid another confrontation with Beth/Mom, I beat everyone down to the Danger Room, already suited up and everything. I was doing a little pre-cursory target practice when Evan and Miss Ororo walked in, chatting. Interesting...not really. They're related. It's expected.

I waved slowly, watching as the pair got set up. Miss Ororo very politely (read: ordered) me to be the hostage to be rescued, since I politely (read: idiotically) neglected to remember they'd booked the DR for a private session. So I got to be tied up, stranded somewhere while the holograms took the form of a matrix-esque computer. Lines everywhere.

"Whoo! Go Loki! I mean, go Tempest!" I winced and sat up, struggling slightly since my hands were bound behind my back.

"Shut up, you!" I snapped. Before we could really set in on each other, Miss Ororo floated serenely from on high, ready to rescue me with her amazing powers. Then, of course, instead of the sim being nice and ending, it trapped us in a box.

A small box. I suspect my mother might have had a hand in that.

So, instead of Miss Ororo acting calm and rational, cutting me free and utilizing my blunt or sharp winds to cut us out, she panicked. I watched numbly as she began hyperventilating, pounding desperately on the walls of the box, powers forgotten. She turned wild eyes on me and yelled, "Simulation end!"

The cube fizzled out and I stood, concerned. Miss Ororo, while an adult, had helped me out when I first got here, so I was allowed to wonder why she went apeshit in there. I reached out a hand and was about to ask her what happened when she rounded on Evan.

"What took you so long?" she snapped angrily, still breathing quickly. "Are you so incompetent that you can't even complete a simple exercise? Get out!"

Whoa. That cube freaked her out more than I thought. "Claustrophobic much?" I muttered. "No reason to chew him out."

"And you!" She whirled around, her cape flaring slightly behind her as she built up the static electricity in the air. That usually meant she was angry, a sign I recognized stemming from an unfortunate situation involving us dying her hair black. Long story, again. "You couldn't free yourself? Haven't you been here longer than him?"

"Relax," I snarled, splaying my hands. Just in case. "I wasn't supposed to free myself. That was the point of the exercise, you guys racing to free me." I cocked my head, frowning. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Watch your language." Instead of slamming me again, she stalked out, following belatedly behind Evan, who skittered out when she started acting spacey.

I shrugged and stuffed my hands in my pockets, walking out cool as a cucumber, hoping my mom/Beth wasn't still in the control booth, screwing with the controls. Apparently, she was, because I had to fight my way back to the door, slicing and dicing various metal constructs. By the time I got out it was past dinner and I was ready to eat myself.

Yum.

"Hiya!" Mom said cheerfully, bouncing out. "Aren't you excited? Your powers are cool! You were all like- like- fwoosh! And slice! And-" She made an assortment of other heroic-sounding noises as I watched impassively. I swear, she has the mentality of a three-year old. And I've been in her company for how many days? Yikes.

"Shut up," I grumbled, smacking the elevator button, restraining myself from gnawing on something. My stomach was about to eat itself, Mom was talking my ear off, and my mind was tying itself in knots trying to figure out what was going on with Miss Ororo. So it was understandable that I hardly noticed walking and sitting down at the table.

Mouth watering, I gathered enough food to feed an army on my plate and was about to set into it like a pack of rabid hyenas on a fresh kill when the alarm went off. Not the normal, lame-sounding beep-beep-beep kind. No, the serious windows-and-doors-locked-down-with-flashing-lights-and-sirens kind of alarm. I sent a sad look at my dinner, promised myself private time later, and bounded off in the direction of the distress signal.

Turned out to be a double, and with Mom following behind curiously, I made a snap decision. Down to the foyer to talk with Miss Antisocial, or up to talk to the freaked out Miss Ororo? Former teacher it is! I jogged up the stairs, falling into place behind Logan, and he burst through the door, claws out.

Miss Ororo was panting raggedly, clutching at the sheets, pale as a ghost. Logan did his best to calm her down, assuring that if someone was bothering her, he'd have smelled them and torn them to itty bitty pieces by now. I seconded that, since it was well into the middle of the night and I'd've heard anyone or anything creeping about.

Xavier puttered in, followed closely by Kitty. "Beat ya here," I said triumphantly. The Professor gave me a sharp glare and shooed Logan and Kitty out, the latter protesting because she hadn't helped at all.

"It was the shadows again," Miss Ororo whispered after a moment of stark silence. Wait, why am I here again?

"I've scanned the entire mansion, and nothing is around," Xavier said, laying his hand on her arm. "I think that relations between you and your nephew are stressing you to the breaking point. Perhaps..." He looked thoughtful. "Perhaps it was a mistake taking Evan from his parents."

Before I had time to jump for joy (that brat made me homicidal on his good days), the tell-tale pattering of feet on carpet filtered in through the door. My best guess...Evan was eavesdropping and knows we don't want him anymore.

My mom, surprisingly enough, was silent. I got the feeling that I wasn't really needed anymore (not like I was needed in the first place) and quietly took my leave.

"So who was she?"

I rolled my eyes. "Miss Ororo, weather witch extraordinaire." I could feel myself brighten as I clapped eyes on my plate of food and I eagerly sat down, shoving bites and barely chewing before I swallowed.

"Didn't anyone teach you manners?" Beth/Mom scolded. "You shouldn't eat like a pig."

That got my hackles rising. "Oh, so you've figured out the crazy approach isn't going to work, so you're gonna try and mother me at the table? Nice try. I've lived without you for ten years. I can live without you again," I bit out, scowling. I shot to my feet, pushing the chair over in the process. "I'm done. Go to your room and get some rest."

"I'd much rather hang out with you!" she chirped, smothering a yawn.

"I don't sleep. We'd be hanging out for a long time." I walked out of the dining room and into the rec room, gathering blankets for my nest as I wiled away the hours watching t.v. and ignoring the copious amounts of homework I have piled up.

"That's okay. We'll-" Mom/Beth covered her mouth with a hand, blinking sleepily. "-talk until I fall asleep, then. Like at slumber parties."

I rolled my eyes, flicking on the tube. After watching the news in silence (I was still wanted and several sightings had come in, which made me laugh) Mom/Beth mumbled, "You kept my blanket."

I froze. There was no way to reply to that, not after what she'd done to me, not without looking like a sissy. So I said nothing, just watched as she slipped deeper into slumber, curling into a ball as if people were going to attack her and she had to present the smallest amount of surface area possible.

I was slipping into a drowsy trance myself, but before I could descend completely into sleep (thank God, or whoever's up there) a scream shattered the silence. I shot to my feet, taking off in the direction of the noise before I knew what was going on.

Miss Ororo screamed again when I came bursting through the bathroom door, throwing out her hand and shooting me with a bolt of lightning. I convulsed for a moment, then dropped like a stone. Getting electrocuted doesn't get any more pleasant no matter how many times it happens to you. A word of advice.

"Oh!" Now she gets it. "Loki, forgive me. I have been on edge. Are you alright?"

Despite the fact I can't move and I smell like a barbecue? "Yeah. Gimme a sec." I hauled myself to unsteady feet, keeping my eyes on the floor. "What scared you?"

"N-nothing. It was nothing. I, uh, saw my reflection and it startled me. I'll be fine, go on," she urged, and I backed out quickly. Flicking my eyes up to see if she was alright, really, I caught sight of something that chilled me to the bone.

A skull. In the steam. And, right where the point in between the eyes was, a network of cracks spider-webbing out.

Shit like that makes you know something's wrong.

I stood gaping for a moment, unable to voice my concern, and Miss Ororo smiled weakly. "Um, I did that. Feeling a little stressed, you know, so I thought some art would help. Would you do me a favor?" She pounced on her newest thought. "I've still got to get ready. Would you mind telling Evan that he will be taking a leave of absence from the mansion to visit his parents for a bit?"

Sure, tell the kid he's leaving so you can collect your thoughts. "Alright."

I closed the door, turning around with the intent of leaving quietly as to not disturb her anymore. That plan was utterly ruined when I shrieked like a small girl because my mom's face was two inches from my nose.

"Don't you have one of those thingies again this morning?" she asked happily. "I'd be glad to help. That was fun!"

"Absolutely not," I growled. "I've got to go talk to someone. Stay here!"

I stomped off in the general direction of Evan's room, fists clenching. Stupid mom, stupid Xavier, stupid paranoid Miss Ororo-

I threw the door open, already in a bad mood for the day. "You're gonna go back to your parents," I said crisply.

"I know," Evan snapped back, throwing another shirt into his knapsack. "Not like anyone would really care if I left, though, would they?"

"How would I know?" I snarled. This kid just painted a target on himself. "Here you are, able to actually go back to your parents, with both of them alive and sane. And you're complaining because no one's throwing you a goddamn good-bye party? Get off your high horse, you idiot."

Evan looked to be restraining himself from leaping at me, his dark eyes filled with anger. Oh, look, I can be poetic. "So? You're just jealous."

"Of what?"

"I have a home I can go back too. And my mom's not crazy, and my dad's not dead. You want that, don't you? A chance for a normal life?" I stopped cold. That was a low shot, even for him. "Well, you know what? It's not your life. So, 'get off your high horse, you idiot'."

I slammed his door shut, then swung my hand around in an arc, letting loose an enormous blade that bit through the wood like it was cotton candy. I saw Evan's shocked face, smirked grimly, and left. Passing by Miss Ororo's bathroom, I grabbed Mom, who had been standing there, spacing.

"Come on," I muttered, dragging her downstairs.

In short order, we were ready to go to school. DR sessions had been cancelled (because my mom wanted to head them and she's a fruitloop) because Xavier was busy doing other, more important stuff. So I actually got to sit down and eat a meal with my housemates. Kind of.

I was looking forward to a nice, quiet meal with them. But Evan was looking for a fight. Kurt tried to console him, but failed. Miserably.

"Why can't you stay?" he asked quietly.

"No one wants me here anyways, so I'm packing my bags."

"I think you're underestimating us."

Evan frowned. "Why do you care? You're not my friend." He threw down his silverware and stormed off.

Kurt looked down at his plate sadly. "I thought I was."

And on that sour note, our school day began. My mom, technically not allowed on the school property, continued to stalk me from afar. Grace clammed up and would hardly say two words to me, which put me in an even worse mood. I got yelled at by Kelly for not serving my detention and got another.

Everything was turning out wonderfully.

Later that night, I was staring glumly out the window of my rarely used room, thankful that my mom was sleeping. Ah, the joys of having unceasing nightmares. Gives you a lot of free time to think about how screwed up your life is.

Miss Ororo floated past, white hair snapping about, clawing desperately at her skin. While odd, it didn't phase me, and I leaped to action immediately. I can't fly, but...I can jump! And leap I did, tackling her with skill picked up from my errant mother. We fell to the earth, twisting around so I broke her fall, and I spat out a blade of grass while she looked around.

I couldn't see three inches in front of me with all this fog. "What was that all about?"

"There were- and Evan- and Nirambo-" She paused and sighed. "I'm not making much sense, am I?"

I shook my head and opened my mouth to reply when a shadowy figure emerged from the mist, holding a tube to his lips. "Look out!" I yelled, slashing the air to distract them and rolling off to the side.

I sprang to my feet, hands held at the ready, peering through the fog, trying to find them. Whispers floated past me and I whirled in place, firing off blade after blade. Cold laughter surrounded me and I gritted my teeth.

"Show your ugly mug, you bastards!" They didn't, instead opting to bring out the tube thing again, which I recognized too late as a blow dart gun thing.

A feathered needle popped out and bit me. Colors melded together and all went dark.

* * *

Believe it or not, instead of waking up to a glorious apology for getting shot, I woke up in a box. A small box. Again.

Can I not catch a break or what?

My hands were bound behind my back, again, and I felt about ready to heave when I sat up. Blinking slowly, the other person occupying the cube happened to be the resident weather witch afraid of small spaces, made smaller because it had another body in it.

Bright light flooded in and I flinched. Some creepy dude, covered only in the barest of areas, leaped down, waving a staff and chanting over Miss Ororo's limp body.

"Um, I think you have the wrong person here," I offered. "I don't know what I did to offend you, but can I leave?"

Scary African Dude turned around, his staff's crystal glowing. "Young god," he said, bowing briefly. Oh, I could get used to that. "You have been misled by our weather goddess. Will you join us with your cutting wind?"

I blinked. Then again. "Say what?"

"Join us or I will break your will the way I broke hers," he snarled, looming threateningly in front of me. "Your hands have been bound, and so have your powers. Join."

I snorted, stretching my legs out. "You couldn't do it that easily. I'm not afraid of something like small spaces the way Miss Ororo is."

He smirked and a ball of lead settled in my stomach. "Is that true?" He snapped his fingers and, like magic, Beth/Mom stepped out calmly from behind him. "Is this not your mother?"

My mouth ran dry and for a terrifying moment, I thought he'd kill her if I didn't answer right away. "You wouldn't dare."

"She is not real. I have used the power of the staff to give you what you desired so."

Hot damn. "You're lying. You're just a big liar, and you can't- you can't-" I broke off, unable to speak. He can't be telling the truth. He can't.

Something silver floated out of my chest, settling into the crystal. I felt myself lose control, felt the bindings slip from my hands and felt my body stand proud and tall.

I wanted my mom. I wanted someone who could hold me and tell me it was going to be okay, like she used too, when the thunderstorms were crashing outside my room and the monsters were hiding under the bed. I wanted someone who would love me, no matter what. I wanted a person to be the opposite of my dad.

My hands moved of their own accord, making me crawl out of the box behind Miss Ororo. They swung about, creating little blades that danced, testing the range, how sharp or dull they could be. I watched from afar as Kitty, Kurt, Jean, Scott, and lastly Evan (surprise surprise) formed up and rushed us.

I darted lithely around, stabbing here, nicking Scott on the leg, opening a gash on Kurt's arm. They were trying their best not to hurt us, but it wasn't going well.

That person I'd towed around hadn't been my mother?

I flipped away from an optic blast, twirling around a punch by Kurt.

This freedom. Not having to worry. It was like floating...letting that crazy guy control me, I could just fade away...

In fact, I came very close to doing just that. Later, Miss Ororo would explain that I had given up living and that no matter what happened after I made that choice, returning my will wouldn't have brought me back. I would have died.

But Evan came, and managed to dodge the lightning and silver blades, firing off a spike that shattered the crystal and brought me back. I wanted to scream, and throttle him, because now I had to live with the fact that my mother really didn't care about me, and didn't want to live at the mansion and pester me.

I sank to my knees, clutching my head with my hands, my winds frothing around me as I lost control. Someone laid a hand on my shoulder and I twisted around, ready to scream.

Gentle hazel eyes greeted me and I gave up trying to act like a strong-willed teenager. I buried my head in her stomach, blubbering my eyes out, just finally being thankful that my mom was alive, and real, and that she was here.

So, in conclusion, Evan got to stay, the creepy dude got deported or something, and everyone was in happy-fun-time-la-la land.

Except for me.

"Why do you have to leave?" I said desperately, fighting the urge to cling to her. Just in case.

"I'm in the middle of a business deal. Although, if you're ever in the Big Apple, drop by, alright?"

I nodded. "So, you were all crazy because you were being controlled by that one guy?"

She laughed. "Not really. He took over and picked through my brain, saw my wild side, and decided it'd be good to gain control over you. I do act like that, just normally when I'm drunk." Mom shouldered her pack and smiled. "Alright. Love you!"

Such wonderful words. "Yeah. Love you too." She pecked me swiftly on the cheek and left me waving at the end of the driveway, choking on the exhaust the car spat as it rumbled off.

I slumped. Now what to do...

Bother someone. Ah, the joys of normalcy.


	22. Unwelcome Visitor

**A/N:** Next really really long chapter, here ya go. Nothing much to say: I don't own it. Leave a review, if you want. Or favorite, or put it on alerts. I don't mind. ^_^ Not much longer until school gets out! Yeah!

* * *

Nights have become a bit of a guilty pleasure for me. Well, most nights. Some nights, I attempt to sleep. Those aren't the best. But other nights, when everything is quiet, and I have my blankets around me, comfortable and warm...I can almost forget how shitty life gets.

It wasn't one of those nights.

Everything was going as well as could be expected. I was still twitchy (but who could blame me, after that last 'adventure'), but I was getting better. Kind of.

Stuffing my fist in my mouth, I bit down. Hard. Light, airy blood filled my mouth and I began to calm down, little by little. Carving off someone's face with your very blunt fingernails is not something I ever wanted to see. Even less so when said victim happened to be first my mom, then my girlfriend. Dreams are screwy like that.

Wincing as pain throbbed across my knuckles, I shook my head and muttered, "I need a better method to keep from screaming."

It was true. The last few times I've attempted to sleep, I woke up the entire house with my shouting. Whoops. No one was pleased with me.

A faint rumble startled me, and I shot to my feet, eyebrows furrowing. "What the hell?"

I crept forward, low to the ground, peeking out the nearest window. What was normally a picture-esque view of the front yard was...a picture-esque view of our yard, post-earthquake, times fifty. Another tremor shook the ground, and I held on to the nearest thing to keep myself steady. Yay for balance!

Around me, alarms were beginning to flash, preceding the ear-shattering wails that would soon follow. Covering my ears, I kicked open the front door (we can get a new one, relax) to behold someone I was still very, very mad at.

No one else in the town remembers Lance's disastrous attempt to make us public. Except me. I dropped my hands, balled them into fists, and was three seconds away from giving him a new hole to spew crap from when someone put a hand on my shoulder. I twisted around, baring my fangs, and only slightly relaxed when I discovered that everyone else wasn't as dead to the world as I'd thought.

Logan unsheathed his claws, scowling. Kitty peered curiously over his shoulder and jumped a mile in the air when she spotted who it actually was.

"Lance!"

Oh gag me. "What're you doin' here, bub?" Logan snapped.

"Come to apologize for ruining us for all of ten minutes?" I said snidely. The Professor shot me a chastising glare and I conceded.

This time.

"I've come to join the X-Men," Lance said gallantly. Do you want me to give you an award or something? 'Cuz all it's gonna be is the honor of being my punching bag. Yipee. "I've decided that the Brotherhood're no good. Will you take me?"

I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to make another stupid and unwanted comment. Logan did roughly the same, except without the self restraint.

"I bet you want to be an X-Man about as much as I want to be the tooth fairy," he said gruffly. I stifled my laugh with my already-injured fist, blinking tears from my eyes.

Just the right comment for just the right jerk. If I were that kind of person, I'd hug him. But, at the moment, I'm far more interested in no one coming within my bubble, so no hugs for him. Like he'd stay still long enough.

Lance broke my unspoken rule and got right up in my face. Why me, I'll never know.

"I'm here to stay, so deal with it, alright?"

I couldn't help it. I decked him. He went down, and I smirked. He'll be feeling that tomorrow. That's a shiner right there.

I was banished to the DR for the rest of the night. Frowning, I got suited up, watching as Xavier puttered away, Scott, Kitty, and Lance in tow. Figures. I get punished, and he gets a free ride. Justice is blind, indeed; telepathic, maybe.

About the time everyone else was required to start the day, I was ready to go and crawl in a hole. Sweaty, covered in soot (from real ammo, mind you), I wanted nothing more than a shower and to not move. Ever.

Sadly, that was not the case. I was scooted out, dumped with those idiotic New Mutants, and given my first interesting thing of the morning: flying lessons.

"I haven't even gotten my drivers permit yet," I said mildly, watching as the younger kids laughed and tried to hit each other with their powers. "You expect me to know how to fly a plane?"

"Not quite yet," Xavier said, smiling slightly. "We're putting you as pilot, Lance as co-pilot, and the New Mutants will be filling all auxiliary positions."

That made me laugh. "You think I'm going to fly with him next to me?" I said, chuckling. Wiping a fake tear from my eye, I said in a deadly quiet tone, "No way in hell. Count me out."

"Language. Everyone has taken flying lessons; you are the last, because of the recent issues with your family." Great. So I'd be up there, terrorizing the military, instead of being down here and terrorizing the townspeople? Great options.

"Fine," I spat, and vaulted into the simulator. It was styled just like the Blackbird, but it wouldn't really crash and burn if I screwed up. I buckled myself in, gave a sullen shout of "Get your asses in here, damn it!" and waited.

I'm pleased to say that they listened. They weren't quiet about it, but they obeyed quickly. Once everyone was in (I haven't bothered to learn their names yet...it just seems a bit unnecessary) I started everything up with help from my pocket elf.

Kidding. It was the radio, and Logan was giving instructions. I was flying fine, keeping everything steady, until somehow, the one with the ice powers managed to hot wire the controls (either that or short everything out, because he's that dull) and grab the steering. Everything locked up, I was yelling and being yelled at in turn, and the ground rushed up to greet us.

We jerked to a halt as 'FAILURE' flashed across the screen. I unbuckled myself in disgust. "Idiotic children," I snarled through clenched teeth, shoving them out of my way to get out first.

"Nice job, loser," Lance sneered.

"Like you did any better, co-pilot. Aren't you supposed to think about the repercussions of things, like sticking him-" I jerked a thumb over to the brat who screwed up the most, who was talking excitedly to Logan "-in a position that sensitive?"

"Don't go blaming your mess on me!" he said angrily.

"I'm not, I'm blaming your mess on you!" That, quite promptly, started another fist-fight. I won. Kind of.

Kitty ran over, apparently done with her portion of work for the time being. Crooning over his wounds, praising him for being so brave, made me think of an owner congratulating their dog for shitting outside and not on the carpet. That caused a chuckle and I winced.

He'd gotten me right across the throat, where Sabertooth had gotten me way back when. As a result, swallowing and apparently laughing hurt quite a bit. But that split lip I added to the black eye proclaimed me the victor.

I strutted off, smirking, even though I felt like crap and wanted to die. Kurt, still on probation, rolled his eyes and went back to cleaning.

Sucker.

That was not the end of the torment: being a Saturday, it was instead a motley assortment of training type things. Which means, at the end of the day, I'll have worked from around one in the morning to about midnight. Nothing short of a slave driver, that Xavier.

Next was target practice. Since so many of the New Mutant's powers can be used as projectiles, everyone figured it'd be a good investment to make sure friendly fire wasn't going to be a constant.

If only life were that simple.

"Hey, Kitty!" Lance called. "Check it out!"

"Back off, rumble boy," I said warningly, holding out my hand so he could see the wisps of silver. "This is for target practice."

To prove my point, I flicked my wrist; two of the blade things separated cleanly in half. The young ones oohed and aahed over my skill and control, then tried to replicate my awesome feat.

With...less than stellar results. By the end of the first ten seconds, all the landscaping was gone. And the blades we were destroying were descending with inanimate glee, proclaiming to the world that they were whole and unharmed.

Scott, controlling the device, simply blasted the thing with his eye-beams. Show-off.

He spotted Lance and smirked. Taking a few big strides, he clapped a hand on Lance's shoulder and said happily, "Hey! That looks tons better than that fruit-bowl thing you used to wear."

That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say. Looking ready to leak steam from his ears, Lance instead decided to destroy the launchers. All six of them.

"Yeah. Thanks." With that, he strode off, Kitty in tow.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. This didn't appear to turn out as well as I'm thinking the Professor wanted it too.

After everyone had finally proven that, eventually, they could hit a still target (what was left of any shrubs or trees became fodder; sorry, nature lovers), we returned to the DR.

Training days suck. Big time.

It was a private obstacle course; you just had to get through it as fast as possible. Mine was filled with things being thrown at me far too fast for my liking. Sharp things, too. And the black globs that Xavier favored whenever he was trying to get a point across.

They bound my hands to my sides, making it difficult to use my powers (hands were the easiest way to release the wind, but it worked alright from, say, me breathing on stuff), so I got to stumble through, trying not to run too fast and upset my delicate lungs.

I sent the control booth a poisonous glare as a disc sliced a few hairs off my head. Scott was 'supervising'. Of course. I was just down here, doing grunt work, because I got in two fights with the same person in less than five hours. Oh, the joy.

Panting, I spotted the end. No one else was in sight...I put on speed, and was tripped by a fissure by -you guessed it- none other than Lance, who jogged ahead, waving his arms about and generally acting as if he'd just won a marathon, instead of cheating and winning a session.

I was about ready to murder the little suck-up when Scott proved that Lance was on his bad side too. A giant wall of foam slammed into him, knocking him at least a hundred yards into his maze. Laughing, I sauntered and hit the finish button we'd been given.

It recorded time, played scary death-match music, and created rivalries, all in one!

We took five, getting changed for the final practice of the day. Swimming.

I despise swimming. Every pool I've ever been in has been so cold my balls have about shrivelled into nothing. And now, with the added bonus of not being able to move (courtesy of Magneto and his trippy ideas) if I even felt a bit of cold, I begged release.

Xavier wasn't having it. "You'll be fine. It's plenty warm."

I felt naked wearing only a pair of trunks. I wrapped my arms around my chest, feeling self-conscious. As if my face didn't bother me enough...I need to get out more. I'm white as my hair.

I dipped a toe in, and finding it to be warm enough, grudgingly slid in, floating around and pretending to play 'dead' while the same idiot who made me crash and burn in the sims today was told to rescue me.

Unfortunately, that same idiot was the absolute worst thing to ever happen to me. He set one foot in the pool, ready to go, and lost control for the barest moment. But, ice is cold, and life hates me.

I seized up; my limbs refused to cooperate. I sank like a stone, bubbles trailing out of my mouth. I was going to kill him. I really was.

It was only getting colder. As spots began to flash behind my eyeballs, everything began shaking, and a thunderous boom crashed through the water. Someone grabbed me around the waist and I rose to the surface, breathing shallowly.

After Xavier reprimanded Lance for letting the rest of the people he was supposed to rescue drown. But, after a moment, he thanked him.

That set my hackles up. Not only did he screw me over, he saved my life. There's nothing worse than owing someone.

Once I was able to move again, I had to restrain myself from punching three people: the ice kid, whose name I discovered to be Bobby, Lance himself, and the Professor.

You'd think the man could think in advance. Honestly.

The pool was wrecked; Lance opened a big ol' crack that drained it, and someone (Rouge, I'm thinking, she was also supposed to be a rescuee like me) pulled me out. Yay for idiocy and being saved by people who dislike you.

I spent the rest of the weekend inside. Where it was warm. Where I wasn't under constant pressure to train and get killed because of a stupid mistake (or several) by those damn New Mutants.

It was very nice, let me tell you. I was reluctant to go to school again, because after the whole thing with my mom, I'm pretty sure everyone at school thinks I'm paranoid. Luckily enough, the New Mutants were being schooled by the local genius (Beast) and weren't enrolled in Bayville High. Thank God for small mercies.

I yawned, scratching my leg, and was passing the garage, getting ready to zone out for the day, when early fighting sounds caught my attention. Sighing, I let my bag fall to the ground and went to go investigate.

The scuffling drew me to the garage, where Lance and Scott were going at it, much to the amusement of Bobby and his crew.

"Break it up, idiots," I snapped, pulling them apart by their shirt collars. The New Mutants took that cue and scattered.

"He trashed my car!" Scott snarled heatedly, glasses askew.

"Did not!"

"There now. He said he didn't, so I'm gonna head off to school now." I left them to their own devices, opting to catch the bus rather than watch the bloodshed.

I yawned; Grace, next to me, rolled her eyes. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Seriously, what?" I pestered, poking her. She shifted slightly at the intrusion, her chair making a screech on the tile floor.

"It's just...have you ever been really confused about something, and not known what to do?"

I nodded. Story of my life much? "Yeah. What's wrong?"

"There's this guy..." I had to bite my tongue nearly in half to keep from swearing. Of course I knew what she was talking about, but could I say something? No, it was that nameless white haired bastard who'd been in Warton's care.

She explained how he was nice, and an old friend, but he was old, and so much more...intelligent. I don't feel bad saying I tuned most of it out, because it was hero-worship girl talk.

Grace was still talking about him when we got let out of school, and I had to kiss her to make her shut up. "Do what you think is right." Then I walked away, feeling like someone set an ornery cat in my abdominal cavity. I even managed to ignore how Lance was getting trashed by his old teammates, so deep in thought I was.

That, truly, makes me proud. I can shut out anything when I'm brooding.

Later that night, when everyone was in bed, I debated what to do. It's obvious she really likes him...but I need her. Simple as that. She's like an anchor, and I told her as much when she was in the hospital. But...

A muffled thump and curse had me startled onto my feet, hands out. I crept forward, almost eager. At least Xavier entrusted me with the safety of the mansion...kind of. I couldn't get picky about my duties. Protect the mansion, survive high school. Tisk tisk.

Whoever made that noise was fast, because I got to the approximate place I'd heard it from and no one was there. Sighing, I turned and headed for the kitchen, only to nearly trip over a body.

It was Lance. I kicked it once, to make sure he was still alive. He grumbled a little, and squinted up at me. "Whazzat?" He shot to his feet. "Kitty!"

Blowing into the kitchen like a man on a mission, he ran around and let out a breath in relief. "What the hell was that for?"

"Oh," he said, rubbing his arm. "I...saw her head and passed out." He grinned sheepishly. I wasn't buying it.

"What were you doing up in the first place?"

"Why so curious?" he shot back. "What were you doing around?"

I looked off to the side. "I don't sleep much."

Lance seemed to know it was a touchy topic and, thankfully, left it alone. He wandered off somewhere, and I went back to brooding.

Night passed quickly. Before I could come up with a game plan, we'd been through the wringer (sadly a literal term-Xavier's getting more inventive, damn him) and were going to get a quick mechanics lesson when Scott and Logan about had heart attacks.

The communal X-Van was in total shambles. "Who did this?" Logan barked.

Scott pointed immediately to Lance. "What's that for?" Lance shouted, clenching his fists. "I didn't do anything!"

"He's telling the truth," I piped up. "He thought Kitty decapitated herself and fainted. I found him in the halls last night."

Scott glared daggers at me for sticking up for Lance, but I thought it was funny enough that he actually fainted. It balanced out in the end. Bobby and his crew, invited along, yawned suddenly and dropped off to the side, causing a hilarious chain reaction that ended up with every New Mutant (plus a few; one of them became more of them when smacked) on the ground, groaning.

I bent nearly double, laughing my ass off. The New Mutants got up, dusted off their wounded egos, and pulled into a group. Apparently deciding something, they split, looking smug, though the littlest (the multiplying one) looked downcast. I just grinned and went on with my day.

It was rather morbid. Grace was still thinking about Warton (jackass, stealing my woman), and would hardly say a word, unless it was to threaten me for taking her book to get her attention.

The session after the school day was much the same. Full of people screwing up and Scott harping on Lance. What joy. I could hardly get a word in edgewise during their arguing, and I'm the one with the grudge. Unfair much?

By the time everyone had gone to bed, I was in a horrible mood. I'd focused my energy on carving an angry face in the ceiling above where I rest. It turned into a weird block thing with big eyebrows, which made me snort milk up my nose. I needed food for thought, and what drink goes well with anything? Milk, that's what.

Again, I heard sounds of thumping and some muttered curses. Ready now, I took off at a steady loping gait, inhaler in pocket if the need arose. I threaded along the hall, following the shadows. I cocked my head in confusion.

They were heading for the Blackbird. Whoever 'they' were was still unclear.

I crept forward and once the shadowy figures had gotten all settled in, I jumped into action. Pressing a button on my watch (dead useful, that thing), the cargo hold popped open and I leaped in.

The jet took off with a rumble, and with an odd screeching noise I don't think was correct. The entire thing wobbled around, unable to steady itself. Next to me, somehow, Lance and Kitty appeared.

"New Mutants?" I said.

"New Mutants," he agreed, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. "They invited me along, and I figured out they were taking the jet. Not like Scott's gonna blame them, or anything," he finished bitterly.

"Enough," Kitty interjected. "These kids don't know how to fly this thing!"

She grabbed my arm, grabbed Lance's, and pulled us up into the cockpit. Bobby jerked back, surprised.

"Hey," he said weakly.

I grabbed his shirt collar and bodily threw him out of the pilot's seat.

"Next time," I growled, shoving my face into his, "Don't do that again."

His head bobbed up and down nervously and I sat down, pulling on the headset Bobby neglected to utilize. "Let's hope I can get us down," I muttered, flipping switches.

Two blips appeared on the radar screen and I blanched.

"Lance, get on the intercom, tell them we're friendlies, alright?"

He agreed, pressing a button above the speaker. Two little rumbles speared through the jet and I felt my jaw drop.

"How did you confuse the missiles for the intercom?!" I yelled.

"I've never flown in your stupid plane before!" Lance shouted back. One of the mutants popped the hatch, sending out some sparkles (honestly?) that attracted the missiles, making them explode harmlessly before they could hit the military jets that had spotted us.

"What's your name?" I called behind me.

"Jubilee!"

"You're in a shit-load of trouble, Jubilee, but thanks for that anyways."

Bobby coughed. "Um, I think the propulsion's cut," he said weakly.

Lance smirked. "Awesome."

I rolled my eyes. "That's a bad thing, I think."

"Oh."

Okay. I can figure out how to fix this, from my whole ten minutes of jet flying experience. "Um, we're falling." Great. I pulled up on the stick, trying to steady us as we began dropping from out of the sky like a big leaden bird.

Bobby came to the rescue, oddly enough, crawling out of the hatch and holding his hand. I prayed he wasn't about to do what I thought he was going to do. But he did. A wave of ice came frothing out, and we slid down like we were on a slide. Of ice. In a jet.

Not like a slide, really.

And, because we haven't been in enough trouble, we were heading straight for a cliff, and four more jets from the military had appeared. "Shit," I muttered.

Kitty put her hands on the control board, startling me. I'd forgotten she was there. "Keep flying, and turn around when I say, alright?"

I couldn't disagree, because missiles were coming my way, and not the good end, either. So I waited, waited...the cliff was getting closer...

"Turn now! Lance, quake!"

Lance rolled his eyes into the back of his head, stretching out his hand as I yanked the control sharply to the left. Kitty groaned, letting her power flow through the Blackbird. We sailed through the cliff, coming out on the other side. The jets, apparently, had been scared off by a sudden rock slide. Awesome.

We pulled out, cheers filling the cabin. Until a bunch of rocks fell on us, too. Then everyone started screaming as I somehow got the jet back into the X-Cave.

I put the brakes on, relaxing as the jet shuddered to a halt. "Everyone out," I snapped.

"You!" That was a new voice. We crawled out through the dented hatch on top, sliding down onto one battered wing and dropping to the ground. Everyone was woozy from the aftermath of the adrenaline and lack of sleep. Not me, though, I was running on fury and anger. Even though they're technically the same thing.

The voice turned out to be Scott, who was spitting nails as he took in the battered jet and world-weary teenagers.

"This is all your fault, isn't it?" he snarled, poking a finger into Lance's chest. Kitty bristled, but Lance wasn't going to take it standing up.

"My fault?" he said, incredulous. "You can clearly see that they-" he pointed to the especially guilty-looking New Mutants "-are responsible. Taking a little joyride with your car, then the van, and now the jet!"

"Well, I'm sure you put them up to it!"

"Why don't you lock these things up, huh?" They were face to face, neither willing to give up their positions.

"Scott, Lance is right." Xavier, lie detector in a wheelchair. "Bobby, Jubilee, Sam, and Amara are responsible." Not that I knew their names at all, but it's good for future reference. "Apologize."

The shorter teen, still red as his sunglasses, grumbled out something that only barely resembled "I'm sorry." Lance wasn't taking the bait.

"I've had enough," he spat. "Living with the Brotherhood's easier than this!"

"Cutting out already?" I sneered, crossing my arms. Grudge, rear your ugly head once more. "I didn't know you were a quitter."

He snorted. "You guys are way too high maintenance." He turned to Kitty, regret shining in his eyes. There I go, being all poetic again. "Sorry," he said quietly, giving her a hug. "I'll keep in touch."

Xavier rolled out of the way, watching his back as he walked to the elevator and left. "If you ever want to come back," he called, "Our doors are open."

Great. So now he's got an open invitation.

"As for you," Xavier said sternly, turning on the rest of us. "New Mutants, you will be cleaning and repairing the Blackbird with Kurt. Loki," he said. "Double sessions. Learn some responsibility."

"I'll get right on that," I said, waving off his punishment.

Whatever. I'm gonna go chill. Those kids'll pay their dues. It doesn't matter what happens.

Does it?

I dunno. But I'm not going to concern myself with rhetorical questions. Just gotta get going on with life.

I sighed and settled deeper into the couch. Ah, life. How I love thee so.


	23. Girl's Night Out

**A/N: **Sorry for the long delay, been busy being a dork. ^^ Well, anyways, here's another long chapter. Thanks for reviewing or favoriting it or putting it on alerts. Just a brief warning: there's some gender-switching (via image inducer) and an attempted rape. Attempted. Relax. No sex here. Now that that's out of the way, on you go.

* * *

"You can do this, Amara. I believe in you."

I stifled a snort. "You wish. You don't have the guts."

Jean shot me an acid glare, putting a hand on her nervous young charge. "Shut up, Loki."

I shrugged, leaning against the stone wall that surrounded the mine shaft we were working in this morning. "Don't shoot the messenger," I said mildly, raising my hands in defense. "I speak naught but the truth."

Amara tucked her chin into her chest. "Are you still mad about the jet thing?"

Yes. Yes yes yes, a thousand times yes. "No," I said, waving her comment off. "Why would I be? You idiots only nearly killed yourselves and almost wrecked the jet. Why would I be mad?"

She winced and Jean sent a small rock whizzing past my head. A silent warning, if you will. A silent warning I naturally ignored. Because I'm cool like that.

"Your rock awaits," I said, gesturing towards the rock Jean wanted the young New Mutant to melt back into place. The same rock that was perilously close to falling on top of our heads. "Please. I'm not here."

"The only reason you are here is to learn to interact with younger mutants better," Jean snapped. "So either be nice or get out."

I held up my hands in defeat. "Sure, sure." I strode up to Amara, bending slightly so we were at eye level. "You are a horrible person," I said slowly, taking great care to enunciate the syllables. Amara looked summarily crushed and I grinned.

"Out! Now!"

I rolled my eyes. What a harpie. "Fine, fine." I flicked my hand up, sending a little blade to wedge in between the boulder and the wall. It gave a loud groan and dropped from the sky. Amara desperately tried to melt it back into place, but she failed. I was thinking of what I could do with the extra space when someone ended my fun by blasting the rock to bits.

Three guesses who and the first two don't count. Begins with an S...ends with a 'cott Summers'. Still don't know? Shame.

Scott sauntered down, looking manly as he puffed up his ego. I stayed only long enough to laugh at him getting chewed out by Jean, then decided to cut practice a bit early and get ready for school. No one noticed me leave, except maybe the Professor, but I'm sure that he wanted to get away from the sea of raging hormones too.

After a quick shower and a fresh set of clothes, I was ready to go. I mozied my way downstairs, grabbed an apple for lunch, and wound up waiting at the end of the driveway for the bus. I blew a strand of hair out of my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest.

With nothing else to do, I started thinking. Dangerous, true, but it can't hurt, right? I got to thinking about Grace, and that dance thingy coming up. I know it's a girls ask boys thing, but if I was assertive...she'd probably get pissed off.

I raised an eyebrow. A devious idea began forming. I wanted to know how she felt about me, and about Warton, but she wouldn't tell me. Would she tell a girl? Like, a new girl, someone who was having some similar problems? I had a watch that made me look human, could it make me female?

I grinned sneakily and let my pack fall to the ground in a dusty heap. I pulled my sleeve back, studying the various buttons and such that covered its face. I poked one slowly and felt my ears pop off my head. No, not that one! No one can see my real face without flipping out, so let's not go down that road.

Alright, then. I pressed a bunch of buttons at random and, when my ears pinned flat to my skull, was kind of disappointed. I figured it put my normal face back on, so I left it be. It seemed like a good plan, you know? The bus pulled up, swinging open with an ear-grating screech. The rest of my fellow bus-goers were absent, so I hopped on.

"You new?"

"Hm?" That's me, ever so attentive.

The driver's eyes flicked up and down, then settled on my chest. I kind of thought he was gay, but this... I snapped, "Yo, lech. Up here." I pointed to my eyes emphatically.

"Siddown!" he shouted, face burning. Rolling my eyes, I flung myself into a random seat. Next thing I know, someone else is suddenly next to me.

"Hey, sweetie," he purred. I wanted to vomit. What the hell?

"What, got your dick so far up your ass you need help finding it?" I replied sweetly. He frowned and left. Ah, the joys of being a social outcast.

I turned to look out the window and caught sight of my reflection. My jaw dropped open in shock. I was...a girl! Holy shit! No wonder people were hitting on me! Nice eyes, good long hair...I took in a deep breath. Nice chest, indeed. Too bad it's fake.

Excellent. I was so engrossed in looking at the female version of myself, I hardly noticed the ride. One second we were in the driveway, the next we were at school. I gently threaded my way forward, grinning when people went out of their way to let me through. I hopped off the bus confident, intent with my plan firmly in mind. I couldn't deviate, I was a rock, I-

Oh, look! Pretzels! Man, I was so starved, I didn't get any breakfast. I jogged over and bought three. The vendor gave me a strange look as I said thanks, spraying crumbs over everything. Wait, chicks use manners. Grace never ate like she was starving, which is how I eat...all the time...hmm. Maybe this'll be tougher than I thought.

I'm an X-Man. I can handle it. I hope.

I walked down the hall, giggling madly and trying to act all girl-ish, swinging my hips, and was so busy trying to walk straight that I missed my locker. I turned around, went to open it, when Grace stepped up.

"Who are you?" she asked, head cocked. "Why are you trying to open Loki's locker? Are you a thief?" She held her fists out. "Cuz if you try and take anything, I'll kick your ass."

I was about to reply that duh, I am Loki, it's my locker, let me be, when I remembered, no, I'm a girl now. I smiled guiltily and thought of the first lie I could think of. "He's...um...he's my brother." What the hell, brain?!

"Your...brother." She looked at me suspiciously as I opened my locker and stowed my book. "He never told me he had a sister."

"He's really private about his home life, ever since he moved in with Xavier's crew," I said absently. "I'm filling in for him today, just gonna go around to his classes, take notes, that kind of thing. My name's...um...Eliza." Random name, hello.

"Oh, well, let me help you around," she said, and I cheered internally. Phase one, complete! I felt kind of bad for lying to her, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

She led me to our first class together and we sat and chatted for a bit, then left. Just a school day, nothing to it. Until I caught sight of Jean and Scott and Duncan at lunch. Forgetting I currently looked like a girl, I went over to harass some people.

"Hiya!" I chirped. "What's up? What're ya doing?"

"Who are you?" Jean said, looking at me quizzically. "I don't remember you at all." I could almost sense her trying to peer into my mind, but thanks for ethics lessons, because she held back.

"Ah- erm- well, you see..." I trailed off. "Never mind. I thought you were someone I knew." Tucking my metaphorical tail in between my legs, I ran back for the safety of Grace. Then all hell broke loose.

"No, Duncan! Just because I'm your girlfriend doesn't give you the right to buy our tickets for the Sadie Hawkin's Dance! I have to ask you! Argh!" She let out another frustrated yell and stomped off, leaving the cafeteria in dead silence. I bet they were remembering her freak-out with the MVP award a bit back.

"So," I said, taking a bite out of my apple. "Got anyone in mind for the dance on Friday?"

Grace shifted and looked around, avoiding my eyes. I felt my heart crack. If that's possible.

"Well...you see..." And then, it all came tumbling out in a rush. I could hardly make sense of it all. "I really really like your brother, but he's so secretive, and I don't think I can do this if I can't trust him to be open, but this other guy, a friend of mine, he cares so much for me! I don't know what to do!"

I opened my mouth, then shut it again with a click. "Um, well, do what your...heart tells you?" That sounded sufficiently womanly enough for advice.

Grace nodded absently, taking another bite out of her health bar. "You really should eat more," I said, then offered her part of my apple. "I can cut it up, you know."

"No, no, I'm fine. In fact..." She looked at me oddly. "Loki tells me that all the time." I froze. "Guess you two have a lot in common, huh?"

Yeah...we're the same person, so I'd say we have everything in common. "Yeah," I said, laughing, but it sounded forced. Even to me. "Listen, I gotta go...see you later. I'll tell Loki you said hi, alright?"

"Oh. Alright." I stood up, throwing my apple core in a trash can. Before I'd made it another step, she called, "Will you ask Loki if he wants to go to the dance with me?"

I jumped in the air, cheering out loud. Yes, yes, yes! I'm going to the dance with Grace! Yes!

Wait. I stood still, straightened, and looked over my shoulder, saying, "Sure. I bet he'll be super happy." I waved goodbye and split.

I want out of this girl's body now. Before Grace gets too screwed up by my 'sister', which could have bad repercussions. At least I have the dance to look forward to. That'll be nice. I was doing a mini victory dance when someone tapped me on the shoulder. We were off in some other hallway, off from the lunchroom.

"Yeah?" I said, blinking dreamily. Slow-dancing with Grace...I could be floating.

"Hey, new kid," Boom Boom drawled, popping her gum. "You might wanna keep them sparkles to yourself. People're gonna get suspicious."

"Huh?" Tactful as always. "What the hell are you talking about? I don't sparkle."

She took a big step towards me and swung her arm out, like she was about to deck me. I ducked, somersaulting backwards and springing to my feet, hands held out. It took me another second to realize that a normal person shouldn't react that way when thrown a punch.

Boom Boom opened her hand and blew whatever was in her palm off with a quick puff of air. Silver sparkles, which had been wreathed around my head, fluttered and writhed in the air.

Oh.

"Um, I can explain?"

"No, it's okay. You're a mutant, just like me. Say, me and a couple of the girls are gonna go to the mall. Wanna come?"

Oh shit. Oh shit. What do I do? It's gonna be me, Loki, a guy, with a bunch of girls! All of which are probably sick of men! "Um, no, it's alright, I'm good, I have to get home now-"

"Psh!" She grabbed my wrist lightly. "Nonsense. Come on!"

And thus began our mall crawl. I didn't even know we had a mall, but we walked every square inch of that damn thing. And guess who we did it with? None other than Jean, Kitty, and Amara. Joy.

Girls can't run, but given a credit card and a building full of shops, they'd walk all day and night. By the time we got to the final store, I was exhausted. Ready to go home. But, of course, I was a fellow mutant, using my feminine power to make a name for myself. I was half-tempted to bash my (so far unnoticed) watch against a wall and have the police take me away. Again.

"Here, here, Eliza! Try this on!" Jean gushed, throwing a skimpy piece of leather and a bunch of accessories at me.

"Are you serious?" I said incredulously. "This shows more than it covers!"

"That's the point," Boom Boom said, strutting out of the dressing room. My jaw dropped. She looked...hot. I forgot my ongoing animosity in favor of staring...wait! Grace! Think of Grace. Not Boom Boom, or Jean, or Amara, or Kitty.

"We're gonna go do some street-cleaning," Amara said proudly, admiring herself in the giant mirror available. I was slowly backing up, clothes in hand, trying to edge my way out of the store and make a break for it.

"Nope, you have to try it on!" Jean grabbed my wrist in an iron grip and flung me into the only open dressing room. I locked it quickly and leaned against it, trying not to panic. Oh man, if they found it was really me...they'd kill me. Then raise me from the dead, only to kill me again. And there was no way to put on the clothes; I'd have to scan them with the watch.

So I did. It took a second, barely, and in moments I was leather-clad and feeling awkward. Lucky the mall's heated or I would've gone into a coma. I poked my head out of the box and whined, "C'mon, I don't look good in all these skimpy clothes. Can we go home yet?"

"Come on out, I want to see!" Kitty said. She pulled me out and I vainly tried to cover everything that didn't have something over it, which was far more than I was used to. "Oh, you're so cute! I wish I had those abs!"

"Ah," I hedged. "I work out a lot?"

"Don't be so nervous, we're your friends. In fact, after this, we're going to go dance, and once it's dark, here come the Sirens!" Boom Boom said, examining me along with everyone else. "Glad we got the belly shirt, woo!"

They proceeded to compliment me until I felt reasonably comfortable in my outfit (an especially strange thing, because I don't normally cross-dress) and then dragged me to some kind of underage bar type thing.

Boom Boom 'borrowed' Lance's Jeep and drove wildly into the Big Apple. We narrowly avoided running over at least four different people and when we finally screeched to a halt, I leaped out, breathing heavily. I never want to be driven around by women ever again. They're all insane.

The joint was filled with a smoky haze, but no one was drinking. It was a new kind of bar for the under-aged, so it served like pop and stuff, but no alcohol. Bummer. I could use a stiff one right about now. I tried sneaking off for the bathroom to get back into my normal body, but Kitty spotted me and pulled me onto the dance floor.

On normal occasions, I have pretty decent moves. It's not hard, all you have to do is grind and try not to get too excited. But, as a girl, what do I do? I shuffled my feet back and forth, trying not to attract any more attention.

"Loosen up, Eliza!" Amara said, a happy grin on her face. "Let the music guide your dancing."

Okay, redundant much? I didn't even like this kind of music, nor did I enjoy dancing that much either, but I reluctantly did as she asked. A grin crawled across my face and, dare I say it, I started having fun.

Everyone joined in, and people started to back away, watching this mad group of chicks (and me) swing our hips and swirl around. It was an interesting experience, let me tell you.

"Come on!" Boom Boom said. "Let's let loose the Sirens on this town!" She led the team back into the Jeep and revved the engine.

We spent the rest of the night helping (or terrorizing, as some might say) the grand city of New York. I personally didn't do anything, preferring to let the real girls waste criminals instead of ragging on the guys. Several times, police officers followed us. I think they don't appreciate us doing their jobs. In fact, we were doing so much work, they had the time to take pictures of us, put them on posters, and tack them up all over town.

Yikes.

Jean turned back to me, along with Kitty and Amara, who were in the back seat. "We've caught word of a ring of car thieves and a chop shop. Sounds pretty big. You in?"

The others grinned. I just swallowed and gave a slow nod. We are so dead. They probably have guns! What do we have? A ghost, an itty-bitty explosives maker, a lava lamp, Miss Stick-Up-Her-Butt, and me, who can't use his powers for fear of getting castrated.

We rumbled into a derelict neighborhood, Boom Boom parking the Jeep in an alley. We leaped gracefully out (they did, I tripped and nearly broke my nose) and peered at the suspected hideout. It was a pretty beat up warehouse, missing windows, all that jazz.

Jean made a few obligatory hand signals, telling us to split up. I circled around to the back entrance, keeping my hands out. With no one around to watch me use my powers, I was safe. For now.

A voice floated through my head, telling me to kick the door in and storm the place. I did as it asked, imagining a shield, hopefully protecting my thoughts from Jean. The bad guys looked startled, then excited.

That can't be good.

As one, they turned guns on us and opened fire. I leaped and tucked into a roll, taking refuge behind a chunk of car. Bullets spattered the metal, creating little conical dents that was accompanied by a sharp clack as they connected.

I bent out to the side and whipped my hand, letting a silver blade slice his gun in two. I waited; did it again, until everyone was no longer armed. Smiling devilishly, I bolted out, running low to the ground. The first guy I kicked in the stomach; he went flying back. I used my momentum to spin around and kick another guy in the head.

He went down, bleeding from a cut above his eyebrow. I forgot about him and continued punching and kicking, a tornado of whirling limbs and silver flashes. Probably not my wisest idea, but oh well.

Something connected to the back of my head and I collapsed, stars exploding in bursts of color in front of my eyes. I couldn't tell which way was up, and the guy grinned, showing a mouthful of rotten teeth.

"You girlies been cuttin' into our busy-ness," he growled, pulling something out of his pocket. After uncrossing my eyes, it turned out to be a zip-tie and a knife. Joy. "So now we's gonna show you what happens when you do that."

"Go suck your boyfriend's cock," I snarled, and a burning whip of pain lashed out from my face. I let out a hoarse cry of pain, clapping a hand to my left eye. I could still see, luckily enough, but it might leave a nasty scar. Might. I hope.

"You's gonna regret that," he said, taking the knife and cutting the straps of my shirt. Ice lodged in my stomach as he grabbed my hands and tied them to a pipe nearby, fastening the tie so it bit harshly into my wrists.

I twisted back and forth, lashing out with my legs, but he stabbed me in the thigh. A howl of pain overwhelmed any other sound in the warehouse for a moment and I couldn't see, couldn't move for the pain. Something touched my thigh, my uninjured thigh, and I snapped.

I sliced quickly through the plastic holding me to the pipe and whacked my watch against it, canceling out the image of me as a girl. I still had on the girl's clothing, but I was me again. As in, white-haired, silver-eyed, pointy-toothed wanted convict. Yeah.

"You messed with the wrong girl, you sick bastard," I snarled, and whipped my hands in opposite directions, forming an 'X' of my winds. They slammed into the guy's chest, biting deep, and he was thrown into the trunk of a car, which slammed closed with a snap. Blood left a dark trail to his final hiding place.

The adrenaline faded and I collapsed to the floor, biting through my lip as waves of pain rolled through me. I turned to the side and retched, letting my drinks from the dancing meet the open air again.

Black cavorted around the edges of my vision, and my heartbeat pulsed in time with my head, eye, and thigh, pumping my blood out onto the floor. I hazily saw something blue grab my arm and before I could register much else, I was unconscious.

* * *

There's a reason people tell me not to be myself. I have stupid ideas, I get into trouble...the list goes on. Today, though, was an especially bad day.

The Professor was doing his equivalent of pacing, rolling in circles next to my bed in the med bay. "That was a stupid thing to do. Abusing the inducer, running around New York City using your powers, taking on a gang! You could have been killed, or worse."

"Don't I know it," I muttered, clenching my hands in the sheets angrily. I could still feel that guy's hand on my leg. Ew, ew, ew. I'm gonna need fifty showers before I feel anywhere near clean.

"You're grounded. No friends, extra sessions with myself, Logan, and the DR, and no dance."

I turned on him. "What!?" I shouted. "Do you know how long I've wanted to go to that? I just got asked by my girlfriend!" I crossed my arms over my chest, fuming silently.

"Maybe you should learn to think before you do things, Loki," Xavier said softly. "I'm sorry, but punishment is the only way to make you understand. You're sixteen, seventeen shortly, you should be responsible enough to make the right decisions."

I laughed coldly. "Whatever." I turned my head away, hearing the bandage rustle. Beast had found this chemical that he doused a bunch of stuff with so my blood won't eat through it. Saves on medical expenses, let me tell you.

"You should thank Kurt." That was a new voice. I turned back, curious, and found a smug-looking Jean. "He saved your life."

"Yeah, the fuzzy idiot stalked us and saved me. Whoop de doo." I fingered the stitches above and below my eye, feeling the bumps. Please don't scar, I don't want to look like that lion from that kid movie...

"I'm sorry," Jean said honestly. "I didn't think it would get that bad. But it got what I wanted."

"Me stuck in bed for a week, then stuck in the mansion for the rest of my natural life?" I said sarcastically. "Yay. Jean's happy, now we can be too."

"No," she said, flicking me upside the head. Gently, of course. "You were being nice to Amara and me. Granted, you were pretending to be a girl, but still."

I felt my mouth drop open. "You knew?"

She nodded, curling a strand of hair around a finger. "Every mind has a distinct feel to it. When 'Eliza' showed up being dragged with us to the mall, I knew it was you, because your mind was familiar. So I waited. I was mad at first, but who wouldn't be? You warmed up to Amara, and she was having a lot of fun."

"So," I said slowly, "the whole thing was a prank to get me to be nicer?"

Jean nodded, smiling brightly. "And you fell for it, hook, line, and sinker."

I let out a scream of rage and started throwing things at her. I was furious. I nearly died, and Jean was worried about my manners? I could kill her!

She left, laughing, and I was alone in the bay. Again.

I hate this.


	24. Gizmo of Doom in the Hands of a Nut

"Yeah! Gun it!"

I swallowed nervously. "Are you sure? I mean, it doesn't seem very safe- what if I break my arm? Or something?"

I could almost sense Logan rolling his eyes behind me. I mean, I had a helmet on -more than I could say for Mr. Indestructible- and it was the first time I'd been allowed remotely near the bikes. He seemed to think that, just because I had to spend ten hours a week with him, learning how to keep up would be the best option.

Knowing my luck, I'd probably crash into a cliff. The path we were riding on threaded in between two rock walls, which began to press uncomfortably close on both sides. My grip on the handlebars tightened.

"Just shut up and go faster. Don't think about it, because thinkin' only screws it up. Just feel the bike. You'll be fine."

That's probably the longest thing he's ever said to me. Strange. I tried to do as he asked, I really did, just let my eyes unfocus and let the bike vibrations travel up and down my spine, making my teeth rattle in my head. Then I hit some kind of rock, because the front wheel skewed to the left and the bike threw me off.

It might not be living, but I think it hates me.

I skidded to a halt, plucking my helmet off to choke on the dirt clouding the air. Logan pulled up expertly next to me. "Um...sorry?" I said sheepishly.

"The next session'll be you fixin' that bike you wrecked," he said, looking sadly at the mangled heap that was my borrowed motorcycle. I knew the cliffs were getting smaller, and this proved it. It bounced off the walls of the canyon. Now it looks like scrap.

A little rush of wind raised more dirt and dust, and I inhaled a generous amount, choking and wheezing. Logan dug around in his pocket, reaching for what I can only assume to be my inhaler (all the adults carried one as a precaution--look at me, I make one mistake and they start treating me like I'm ten and don't know what I'm dealing with) when the wind increased tenfold.

Turned out to be a helicopter. Logan took one look at it, set his mouth in a snarl, and grabbed me around my waist. I started complaining immediately, but a Look silenced me. He sat me down on the working bike, climbed on behind me, and took off at a speed that made our earlier trek look like an old lady hobbling along.

"What the hell?!" I screamed, my words torn out of my mouth by the wind. "Who the hell are they, and why are we running?!"

"Fury," Logan growled, leaning low into the wind, taking the winding curves of the cliff-paths with expert precision. Didn't make me want to faint any less, though. I'm never getting on one of these again if I survive this.

"Thanks for being specific," I snapped, every muscle in my body taut. The thrum-thrum of chopper blades was increasing, the wind beating at our backs. I tried to peer through the dirt and dust, but to no avail. Wherever we were headed, we were going fast.

Logan heard something before I could; he cocked his head and slammed on the brakes, twisting the whole bike sideways so my nose was about three inches from the ground. Well. If he wanted me off that badly, I'd've left. Gladly, even.

The helicopter that I had mistakenly figured to be behind us suddenly appeared, blasting us back and clearing the smog. We had stopped before going off a ledge. How lovely. My legs felt like jelly all of the sudden, so I sat.

"Weapon X." The voice was rough and deep, booming out from a megaphone.

"I don' work for S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore, Fury," Logan shouted, balling his hands into fists. He was fighting the urge to pop his claws and charge, I was guessing, which would have added a lovely touch to the tense situation.

The man called Fury, who I still couldn't see, was silent for a heavy moment. "Rebirth has been stolen. All the pipes and metal in the lab were completely warped. Do you have any information, Weapon X?"

"Magneto," Logan muttered under his breath. I snarled silently. That guy was an egotistical, psychotic, grave-robbing bastard. I was going to kill him at the earliest opportunity.

Maybe. Or just lock him in a teeny little room forever.

"We will contact you again. Fury out." With that message delivered, the chopper took off, leaving Logan grinding his teeth in (no pun intended) fury and me confused.

Of course, confused is a permanent state of mind for me, so it's not surprising I'm here again. Oh well. "Okay...that was odd. Is it time to go back to the Mansion yet?"

Logan grunted, walking over and picking his bike up, revving the engine. He looked at me imperiously and said, "You comin' or what, brat?"

I stood, trying to retain my dignity as I brushed my clothes off. Walking over, I swung one leg over and got settled in for yet another wild ride. And to think, just a few days ago I'd been stuck in bed with a concussion. Ah, life.

We took the regular road home, speeding along like we hadn't a care in the world. Except, of course, for Logan and whatever that Fury guy wanted. We whizzed past a police officer, who gave us up as a bad job. No, wait, he pulled out and tried to catch us, out of his sense of duty, but Logan lost him rather fast. Poor guy.

Logan roared into the mansion's driveway, dislodging me at the front door as he took the bike into the garage. I grinned sneakily. With all this stuff on his mind, we skipped past getting the ruined motorcycle, so hopefully I won't have to fix it. Yes!

I strutted inside, ready for dinner. Gonna eat something, watch some television, read a bit...yep, tonight, I'm just going to relax, try and forget all about crazy people stalking Logan.

I wolfed down a quick sandwich and set up my nest. No one dares mess with my stuff in the rec room. Evan tried to once and I almost took an arm off. Try skateboarding minus a limb, dumbass. That'll teach him.

I was settling into my blankets, remote in hand, when none other than Logan and the Professor appeared, ready to ruin my evening. "What do you want?" I said crossly.

"You were present with Logan when the situation with Rebirth was explained," Xavier said. "I want to include you in the mission."

"No way," I said immediately. "I'm grounded, remember?" Me? I'm not bitter. Of course not. Stupid Professor who won't let me go to the dance.

"If we can find a way to stop Magneto, I will allow you to go to the dance," Xavier replied, giving me a knowing stare. Stupid mind-reader.

"Fine," I grumbled. "Fill me in, then. I guess I don't have a choice, huh?"

They proceeded to tell me about this machine that enhances cells or something, making people super amazing, blah blah blah. That's what made Captain America, apparently, though he came damn close to kicking the bucket. Now he's a popsicle. That's life, though.

So Magneto had the machine, Rebirth, and was going to make himself younger, because he's getting too old to be a murderous (and a bunch of other adjectives) bastard. Thus, the X-Men come into play. We had to be the good guys, go rescue the device, and hopefully neutralize the magnet-man threat in the process.

Good luck to us.

The unlikely pair went off, probably to reminisce, or have joint flashbacks, or something similar. I didn't really care. I wiled away the early hours of the morning, watching the reruns of all the decent shows that had been replaced with uppity pop crap. Blah.

The DR session was especially difficult, mostly because it was in the negatives (cold for normal people, I hear) and I was completely comatose, trying to figure how the hell to get myself rescued.

Is it just me or do I seem to be the victim in most of these things nowadays?

We caught the bus late, again, and almost missed it. Kurt was looking especially down, for reasons unknown. Dare I say it, I felt kind of guilty for not paying much attention to my house buddies. I decided to forgo scaring freshmen and sat down next to him.

"Hey, what's up?" I said, nudging him in the side. "How's life?"

"Oh, hey Loki. Nothing, I guess," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "Alright."

"Why're you so down? I mean, come on, it's actually kind of nice out, you know?"

"Yeah, it's not the weather..." He paused, looking for the right words. Kurt shook his head, sighing. "You wouldn't understand. It's just I have a big history quiz today and I forgot to study. Nothing else, really."

Oh, that doesn't seem so bad. Maybe I'll skip gym and go hang with him first hour. We exited the bus, surrounded by small people on all sides. I swear, they just get shorter every year. Doesn't make sense.

I waved Kurt off for a minute to stop at my locker, putting a book in and slamming it shut. I jumped a bit when Grace suddenly appeared at my side.

"So, you feeling better?" she asked, playing with an earring. "Your sister came by the other day, then you were absent. Your immune system must suck, huh."

I blinked in confusion. My sister...? Oh, right. "Yeah, sorry about that. I get sick a lot." I smiled sheepishly, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. "And about the dance..."

"You can go, right?" Grace said eagerly. "I've got my dress picked out already."

"Yeah, about that..." I looked off to the side. "I...did some stupid things over the weekend. I'm grounded." I could see her eyes begin to fill with tears. Shit. Now she's sad. And instead of crying, like normal people, she starts kicking ass.

"How dare you lead me on like that?!" she shouted, and before I knew what damage I'd done, I was lying on the ground, blinking spots from my sight. My right eye was already swelling shut, throbbing madly.

"If you'd let me finish," I croaked, crawling to my feet. "I was going to say that I have to do some extra chores and I'll be able to go, hopefully, as long as Mr. Xavier doesn't go back on his agreement."

She was silent. In fact, the whole hall was silent. I'm thinking it's the only form of entertainment they can get here. Sad.

I reached up to inspect the damage, wincing when my fingertips brushed the bruise that was already forming.

"Sorry for punching you," she muttered, rubbing her arm. "Do you need some ice?"

"Nah, I'll be fine," I said, bending down to grab my pack. "See you later?" She nodded and waved goodbye as we walked in opposite directions.

I think Kurt and Rogue were a bit surprised when I strolled into their history class. I plopped down in a random seat, pulled out a pencil, and waited. I'd heard stories about how spacey the freshman history teacher was, but nothing prepared me for her reaction to me.

She didn't. She passed a wad of papers down the row of desks, gave us instructions for the quiz, and sat down, pulling out a book. She didn't ask who I was, or where I was supposed to be, or why someone so obviously not a freshman was in her class.

It was kind of cool. I propped my head on my fist, tried to ignore my inability to see out of my right eye (which she'd neglected to notice as well, but had many of the younger kids whispering in curiosity), and set to work.

It wasn't that hard. World War Two, not a speciality, but I'd absorbed enough to pass with a decent grade. A B, maybe. Or a B+. The time flew by, and before I knew it, I was the only person who hadn't turned it in. I blinked, astonished. I thought I'd gotten over that particular habit, turning in stuff last because I was so nervous in the first place.

I stood, threading through the aisle to put my paper on the top of the stack. Without even looking up from her book, she grabbed the stack and began straightening the pile, preparing to grade it. A quick look at the clock showed we still had a bit of time.

The countdown had begun; while we waited for the bell to ring, the teacher handed back our papers. I did a little dance. B-. Excellent.

A sharp ringing signalled our freedom for the moment. I hooked up with Kurt and Rogue to compare scores. And to gloat. Mostly to gloat.

"B-, top that!" I crowed, waving the paper around in Rogue's face.

"Who even needs to know about WWII, anyways?" she grumbled. I could see that her score was a D-. Shame.

"What'd you get, Kurt?" I turned expectantly to the kid, nudging him as we walked. He didn't answer, apparently too busy staring at his feet as he walked. "Hey. Kurt! Yo, fuzzy dude, get your head together!" I said, rapping him on the head with my knuckles.

He was spared the need to answer my burning question by running head-first into something. Or, more accurately, some_one_. This guy was as tall as me, rippling with muscle, and had the ever-present stupid bully expression on his face.

"Yo, watch it, dweeb," he growled, shoving Rogue and Kurt out of the way. I frowned, tapping him on the shoulder.

"I think the phrase you're looking for is 'excuse me'?" I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

The bully snorted. "Try again, freshie," he growled, and grabbed my wrist. My right wrist. The one with the watch.

It sparked, and my hologram flickered and died, revealing me in all my demon-y goodness. I think the black eye didn't help much, either. Made me look more menacing.

"It's- it's- you!" he gasped, taking a step back. "That guy on t.v.! The wanted one!"

"Yeah, and if you don't apologize to my friends, I'm going to kick your ass," I snarled, cracking my knuckles. He blanched, taking another step backwards, then another, until he was running away. Wait...that might be a bad thing.

"How about you just forget everything that's happened?" a soft voice interrupted, and before my very eyes, none other than Jean Grey stepped out from behind a tree and stopped the bully in his tracks. After a moment, the bully nodded and walked off, weaving slightly.

I rolled my eyes. "Do you ever get tired of cleaning up after my messes?" I said, annoyed. "I could've handled him easily."

"But what about them?" Jean said, nodding to the multitudes of staring teenagers. There was no good answer for that. "I can erase you from their minds, but you have to go before you're too ingrained."

I shrugged. There wasn't anything else to do, I suppose. So with a final smile (not sadistic looking, I hope, though the fangs don't help in that aspect) I took off in the general direction of the mansion.

It was a long walk, I'll admit, having to duck into the bushes every time a siren howled nearby, having to take the deserted roads (which added a few more hours to my trek), being unable to hitchhike or take a bus. I hate walking, but I hate having an asthma attack more, so it was all I could do.

Just about the time we'd be getting home from school is when I arrived at the mansion, sweaty and covered in leaves and twigs. I slipped in the back door, the one that led into the kitchen, and was almost to the living room where we all studied after school when I spotted Rogue and Kurt sneaking somewhere.

I snuck up on them, grabbing their shoulders and grinned when they yelped. "Loki!" Rogue hissed, holding a finger to her lips. "Shut up! We're listening in on Logan and the Professor."

"Why? If you just asked, I'm pretty sure they'd let you in on it," I pointed out. They glared at me.

Sometimes the simple solutions escape the simple-minded. Oh well. We continued on, following the two as they headed down to Cerebro. I'd only been down there once, when that kid named Webber hacked into it and made the mansion go apeshit on us. That was also the day I got my first kiss with Grace. Oh yeah...

I felt a sharp tug on the back of my shirt and I went with it, hiding behind the door while the Professor used his powers to try and get a fix on Magneto.

"There's so many showing positive for the X-gene," Xavier muttered. "We're not going to be able to keep this secret for much longer, I believe."

It was like someone had shoved a hunk of ice into my stomach. I let out a half-formed protest, then clapped a hand over my mouth. Shit.

Logan turned around, a scowl on his face. "Looks like we got a few more volunteers for our little mission, huh?" he growled. It didn't seem to please him. Come to think of it, he wasn't very happy when Xavier recruited me for this either.

"Well, we need to find out where Magneto is, don't we?" I said, eager to distract them from my epic idiocy today.

"When I tapped him in New York, I got some memories," Rogue offered, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Someplace in the Sahara Desert, I think, a big metal dome."

"So to get in you need me!" Kurt said, smiling brightly. "Awesome! I'll get suited up and meet you in the jet."

Logan was visibly restraining his temper, obviously remembering something that made him not want us along. Maybe he had some kind of history with Captain America. Wouldn't surprise me, Logan's so old he makes the dinosaurs look hip.

I ran up to my room, got all fancied up in my special uniform, and met up with everyone at the jet's entrance bay. We climbed in, got strapped down, and were set to go. Logan was driving.

It wasn't a long journey to the Sahara, oddly enough. But faster-than-sound travel does screw with my internal clock. So, before I'd had a chance to realize we weren't over the ocean anymore, Kurt was begging for a debriefing and Rogue was looking for landmarks. Logan was silent as...well, Logan. Deep in the throes of a flashback.

"So, why'd they only make one Captain America?" Rogue asked quietly, still peering intently out the window.

I already knew the answer, but it still stung a bit to hear that the hero of our nation was dying and was frozen for his own good. No one likes to hear that their superhero isn't invincible. It makes you question things in life. What, I'm not exactly sure, but it sounded fairly philosophical so I thought I'd give it a shot.

"You coming or what?" I turned my head slightly, raising an eyebrow in confusion at Kurt, who was standing. "We're getting closer with some ATVs. Come on!"

Man, when I try, I can get so wrapped up in my thoughts. I didn't even notice the landing. I unbuckled myself and followed behind the blue kid, climbing on one of the things and wincing when Logan barked at me to get in the back because I couldn't drive.

It was true. I think he wants to live to get there in the first place. I reluctantly did as he asked, scooting backwards and allowing him to jump in front, where he gunned the engine and took off at a speed that made me want to crawl in a nice, safe hole for a while.

"How much longer until we get there?" I yelled over the wind.

"Rogue's the one with the map," Logan growled back, and as we crested over a hill (which came close to unseating me and resulting in my untimely demise) I pretty much figured that wouldn't be necessary. Silver sticks out from brown like a sore thumb at a pinky convention.

But getting there proved to be a little more difficult than just knocking on the door, however, because next thing I know, we're being shot at. Not the normal bullets either, big freaking missiles that exploded next to our vehicles and knocked us into the air, heading on a collision course for the dome. Logan was shouting at Kurt, who wrapped his tail around my arm, and just as I figured we were done for-

-there was a rush of color and sound and we were inside, the walls stretching up cavernously around us, colored in muted grays. Steel girders held the whole thing off our heads. I let out a low whistle.

Before I could go about complimenting the sheer sweetness of the place, Kurt piped up, "What's that thing over there, Logan?"

The man, decked out in full battle regalia, squinted and growled, "It's the chamber. Someone's in it."

Well. Three guesses and the first two don't count. I had to physically grit my teeth and clench my fists to keep from sprinting over there and putting a blade in his head. Or somewhere else. Like his balls.

A roar shattered the stillness and, out of nowhere, Logan goes flying past, claws out. Sabertooth barreled past, snarling, and landed what should have been a jaw-shattering punch to Logan, who rolled with it and shot to his feet. Rogue and Kurt rushed to help, Kurt 'porting in and around, Rogue trying to tap the overgrown cat so she could knock him out.

Meanwhile, the beams holding the place up were taking most of the damage. Having no wish to take part in the battle, I idled my way over to the machine. Magneto was in there, I was sure, but you couldn't see for the fog in the capsule thing. I cracked my knuckles and set to work, pressing a bunch of random buttons, cackling madly.

Nothing happened, so I stepped back and held out my hand, preparing to destroy the whole damn thing, when a hoarse voice called out, "Wait!"

It was the bastard.

"I'm not going to," I snapped, and the silver winds crackled around my fingers. Still I continued charging my energy.

"Without this, I will die." That made me pause, more than anything. I wanted him to pay for all the shit he's done, but not with his life. "I am old. This Rebirth will rejuvenate my cells and give me the power I had when I was your age."

I snorted. "Didn't you hear about Cap'n America? He's a popsicle because of that thing. Go ahead, be my guest."

The smile was there, even if I couldn't see his face. "Captain America was not a mutant."

Oh shit. I let the wind blast from my hand, a concussive force which blew me backwards. I slammed into the wall, coughing and spluttering, as the machine spat sparks and smoke in every direction. I couldn't tell where everyone else was, partially from the haze, partially from my latest head injury.

An image rose from the middle of the chaos. I forced myself to my feet, letting out a battle cry as I prepared to attempt to beat in Magneto's head. Before I had gotten a step, however, an iron girder wrapped itself around my torso, another one locking my wrists together behind my back. Unable to move my arms, off balance, I toppled to the ground.

Then I was ungracefully jerked across the room, slammed against another wall, and pinned there with yet another bar.

Is it just me or does he have some serious anger issues?

Magneto strode out of the smoke, looking remarkably... not about to die-ish. If that exists. He sneered down at me, then made a hand gesture, and Logan, Rogue, and Kurt came flying out, landing with metallic clangs next to me.

"This wasn't my fault," I said quickly at their glares. "Mostly."

"I do not appreciate being interrupted when I am doing something of importance," he growled, and unlocked my arms, though I still couldn't do much more than flail. I tried to swing them around and slice him, but he quickly tacked my wrists to the wall above my head. I coughed, unable to exhale properly, and sent him a poisonous glare.

"Allow me to give you a gift," he said, in a complete opposite to his earlier attitude, and something bit into my arms, and I howled. That hurt, a lot, like something clawing into me and wrapping around the bones of my forearms and hands. "My personal favorite metal. I've implanted it into your arms. Now, you had best watch out when we are facing one another, for I have control of your movements."

Blood trickled down and I grinned. "They won't last long," I said proudly as I tried not to cry. "My blood'll eat through in an hour."

Magneto smirked, brushing a hand through his white hair. "Dr. McCoy is not the only being proficient with chemicals."

Anger boiled up within me. "Bastard," I hissed, and began trying to fight my way out, and only succeeded in bruising my shoulders and stomach. Logan let out a warning growl next to me, and that seemed to be some kind of signal because Kurt 'ported and set something on the Rebirth machine.

Wait, I thought I destroyed that thing. Blasted machine, one part blows up and it can still be in one piece.

Magneto was not ruffled by it, instead opening the dome and bringing our jet around to bear. "You spared my life, boy," he said to me, and I stiffened. I was a teenager, dammit! "So, mutant to mutant, I will spare yours."

The bars holding us to the wall sprang off, and I let my arms fall limp, feeling the throb when I tried to move anything. One hand lifted on its own accord, waving at something behind me. Gasping from the heat that threaded through my veins, I grabbed my independent hand and forced it back down, glaring over my shoulder at Magneto, who looked smug.

Before he could do anything else unpleasant, the lift was coming down, and we limped to it, watching as that man grew smaller as we ascended.

"Good riddance," I muttered, wincing. "Damn it, another thing to add to my list of reasons to castrate him."

"Well, next time you shouldn't be so reckless," Rogue pointed out. I gaped at her as we got strapped in and Logan pulled us out of there.

"How can you blame this on me?" I said.

"You seem to have a talent for ticking people off," Kurt said helpfully, a grin on his face. They were teasing me!

"Let's just go home," I said sourly.

Great. I'm going to be swaddled in bandages until the Professor can get that metal out of me. Stupid blood, not even able to dissolve shit when I need it to.

I let my head fall back and groaned. So much for stopping Magneto. All we got was our pride wounded.

This is gonna come back and bite me in the ass somehow, I know it.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for the long time between updates! Nothing to say, really, I don't own, thanks for all your support, I'd like a review if you enjoyed or even hated the chapter, blah blah blah. Now, for a shameless plug, if you liked the new Star Trek movie, meander over to my other stories... maybe you'll like it. ;)

Peace out!


	25. Best and Worst Time of My Life

I was really excited.

Well, there was a lot of things not to be happy about. Magneto wrapped strips of metal around the bones of my hands that Beast can't get out (one x-ray and he called the surgery off... jerk). I'm a mutant. I think that being able to keep this whole thing a secret is becoming less and less likely as every day goes on.

But, on the plus side, I get to spend the whole weekend with Grace.

Thus, the excitement.

It took a lot of scrounging and saving and hoarding, but I have the whole thing planned out. Gonna catch breakfast at a nice little place I know, go to the park and chill, get lunch, do what she wants for a few, catch a movie, then have a romantic dinner out on a hill overlooking a lake. It's going to be amazing, and I'm really excited.

I am such a softy. Oh well.

My watch beeped and I unearthed myself from underneath the mound of blankets, standing and stretching, wincing as my back popped loudly. I scratched the back of my head and grinned. Today was gonna be a good day, I felt it.

I was heading up to my room to get changed when I ran into Scott. Sadly, very literally.

"Oomph!" We both sprawled on the floor, groaning. I lifted myself onto an elbow and shot the guy a glare.

"What the hell, Scott?" I snarled.

"Jean's missing," he explained, panting. He pushed himself to his feet and looked back and forth. "No one's seen her since last night. We checked her room and the only thing was the jack-in-the-box from the carnival last week."

Way to rub salt in an open wound. I'd done as Xavier asked, gone on that goddamn mission with Logan, and all I had to show for it was that I could go to the dance. I tried to go with the rest of the occupants of the mansion, only to be held back and glared at. I ended up destroying that door... mostly on accident. Mostly.

"Right," I muttered, rolling my eyes and picking myself off the ground. I stood, folded my arms across my chest, and raised an eyebrow, saying, "And what do you want me to do? I've got other plans."

"This is important," Scott insisted. "She could be hurt, or kidnapped, or-"

I waved my hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, go worry somewhere else. I had to do extra chores to get Xavier to let me spend today with Grace, so shove it." As Scott stood, shocked and silent, I walked around him and threaded into my room, sneezing as I stirred up some dust.

I should get one of the New Mutants in trouble so they have to clean it. Plans, plans. Working out the mechanics for such a scheme in the back of my mind, I grabbed a clean pair of jeans and a nice shirt. It even had a collar! I surprise even myself sometimes.

One quick shower later, I was squeaky clean and ready to go, straightening my unruly hair and making sure the inducer was working properly. Wouldn't do me a bit of good to turn into a freak mid-date.

Dodging around the various people running around the mansion looking for Jean, I slid out the front door and down the driveway, looking around with sudden nervousness wringing my insides in knots. What if she came to break up with me? What if she found out my secret? Damn, what if she comes to tell me that she hates me and never wants to see me again?

Now thoroughly entrenched in self-doubt, I had to lean against the gate to keep standing. My knees decided they didn't want to take this crap and gave out; only grabbing on to the wrought iron decorations saved me from getting all dusty.

The familiar trucker horn of Grace's truck bellowed out and I swallowed, hoping I wouldn't suddenly get sick.

What is it about this girl that makes me a quivering pile of mush? I have never been like this before, but after going out with her for a few months, I've mellowed out. Sort of.

Enough to make me wonder, at least. Grace leaned over and opened the door, inviting me in with a charming smile that made my heart flutter. I hopped in, and within seconds we were peeling out of there, spraying gravel as the tires spun.

"So," I said after Grace pulled out onto the road. "Hungry for breakfast?"

She nodded and smiled. "You bet, I'm so starved I could eat a cow. Fork optional." I laughed a little and assured her that she could get all the cow she wanted later today.

The little diner I directed her to was a favorite of mine; a small chain that I'd discovered in Michigan with excellent pancakes. I escorted Grace in and pulled her seat out, being the gentleman that I am.

Done in shades of blue and white, the place was supposed to resemble a kitchen of some sort, with wooden tables crowded together and waiters dressed in weird outfits I supposed were supposed to look like the guy version of the apron. It didn't really work, though.

We put in our orders and dug in, me to whole-wheat pancakes and Grace to chocolate chip waffles drenched in syrup. I reached over and wiped her nose off; in her exuberance, she'd gotten the sticky stuff all over her face.

Grace stuck her tongue out and said, "I'm not a kid, let me clean my own face."

"Sorry, sorry. It was very cute, though."

She grinned and continued to devour her breakfast. Inside, I was grinning too. Had a brain, wasn't afraid to speak her mind, didn't care what others thought of her, and looked damn fine doing it all. Amazing.

I paid for the meal, and escorted Grace back to the hulking monster vehicle. She patted her stomach, content.

"Thanks," Grace said shyly. "That was great. I didn't even know that place existed!"

"No problem," I said airily. "Found it one day when I was skipping class. Great pancakes. But," I amended at her stern look, "I did get caught. Properly punished and all."

"You're so nonchalant," Grace scolded. "Try and care about your education!"

How could I when, if things go the way I think they will, I won't be doing anything because of what I am? Prejudice is the least of my hopes. Catching my suddenly morbid mood, Grace sighed and pulled out, asking quietly, "Where to next?"

"The park."

Passing by random stores, I leaned my forehead against the glass and closed my eyes. The silence wasn't awkward, exactly, but not the most comfortable we've shared. The truck stopped moving and I took that as my cue to climb out.

The park was fairly secluded; enough so that we could have a private conversation if we moved away from the crowd of small children. Trying to hide my distaste, I grabbed Grace's hand and tugged her up the hill so we could sit on the top and hang out. I flopped ungracefully onto the grass, stretching my legs out and heaving a sigh.

"Why are you so quiet?" It was a sudden question, one I wasn't really prepared for.

"What do you mean?"

"Back in the truck. I was joking around, because you don't seem to give a shit about your grades or anything." Grace played with a pine cone, her eyes focusing on the brown thing instead of me. "You went all silent, and I want to know why."

What do I say? Not the truth. She'd freak out more than she did the first time around.

That sounded so weird, but it's the truth.

"Sorry," I said softly. "I can't help but wonder what it's going to be like. The future, I mean. I don't try to do that, I just..." I trailed off, meeting her eyes, and snaked an arm around her waist, gently pressing a kiss to her cheek. "It's hard. That's all."

"Yeah," she agreed, playing with the hem of her shirt. "It is. What are you thinking of for college?"

I raised an eyebrow. Saving the world doesn't seem like it'd be considered a class. "I dunno. I wasn't thinking about it, honestly. I probably won't. No money, no interest."

"You should," Grace said, poking my side. "Colleges have scholarships, and if you put your mind to it, you could pick up your grades. Anything you ever dreamed of doing? Anything you'd give the world to be able to do?"

Be normal, I mouthed, then smiled and said so Grace could hear, "I dunno. Medicine, maybe. Be a doctor."

"That's cool. I'm going to be a teacher. Math, more precisely." She giggled and drew her knees to her chest. "How crazy. Math classes are full of troubled kids who are loud and irritable. But I think it's so fun, and all I'd love to do is show them how fun it can be."

"You're crazy," I said, but I didn't mean it. "Anyone who'd want to be around hormonal time-bombs has a death wish."

Grace punched me on the arm and was about to offer a rebuttal when my watch flashed. I tried to cover it up and ignore it but it began beeping as well. "Excuse me," I said, and stood, walking behind a copse of trees to make sure Grace was out of hearing range.

"What do you want?" I snapped grouchily. "I specifically said I didn't want to be bothered with your stupid Jean-hunt, Scott."

His voice filtered up from my wrist, tinny and soaked in worry. "It's not just Jean now. She passed by while everyone was looking around town and I saw her, and now Kurt, Kitty, and Evan are missing too."

Oh. Well, shit. "Do you think someone's figured out we're mutants and they're kidnapping us?"

"Can't be. No one's said anything about being followed. When Jean came by, she looked blank, and she knocked me out. Next thing I know, half the search party's gone missing."

I shrugged, then forgot he wasn't here to see me do it. "Well, what do you want me to do about it?"

"The Professor and Beast have done some research. Everyone who's missing has turned up in a couple of museums and a few items have been taken."

"You don't think..."

"Yeah. Cerebro's picked up them using their powers. The artifacts are Tibetan rings, and two out of three have been taken."

"Alright," I said. "Go rescue your damsel from the clutches of kleptomania. Thanks for the update, and I'll be watching for them." Not. "Have a nice day." With a smug grin, I cut the connection.

My watch is so cool. It makes me normal, it lets me communicate with members of my team, and it tells time too. I strutted back over to Grace, confident that I wouldn't be experiencing any more interruptions today. "Who was that?"

"My housemate. He can't find someone, and he's having a panic attack because of it." I rolled my eyes and, in a sudden burst of inspiration, pulled Grace onto my lap. She let out a startled yelp but relaxed once we were comfortable.

"When I was little, I used to look up at the clouds and make them into people so they could fight the sun," Grace said after a moment of quiet. "Pretty dorky, huh?"

"No. Not at all." I thought about living with Dad, how he was never home because he had to work all the time to get enough money to keep us in our house. "I wish I'd been able to do that."

"Why couldn't you?"

"We didn't have a lot of money, and I felt bad about being such a burden to my dad. Whenever I was out of school I was looking around the neighborhood for odd jobs to do. Depending on how well the business was, I'd be able to enjoy playing without feeling bad." I took a deep breath, burying my face in Grace's hair.

"That's okay," she whispered. "I know it must suck that he's gone, but you've got Xavier and all those people. And me," she added as an afterthought. "We're here for you."

I smiled. That was why I was becoming a marshmallow: for someone who accepted me, even with my past, with my occasional sarcasm. I had said the words before I'd consciously realized what such a thought meant.

"I love you."

My jaw clicked shut and I froze, every muscle tense. The words slipped out, I meant them, sure, but we weren't ready, what if she rejected me, what if-

That line of thought was banished as Grace twisted around in my lap and pressed her lips to mine, sending electricity down to my toes and back. I closed my eyes and leaned into it, and too soon she pulled away, leaning her forehead against mine.

"I love you too, Loki," she whispered. "I've been waiting for you to say that. I would have, but I was scared you didn't feel the same..."

Everything was at peace. I could have floated away, if not for the reassuring weight of Grace on my lap. It was amazing.

"Want to go explore the carnival?" I blinked, confused. "The one you couldn't go to," she clarified.

"Isn't it abandoned? Wouldn't they have packed up by now?" I asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"They have special... 'adult only' shows after dark, or so I've heard," Grace said, a mischievous glint entering her eyes. "Can't hurt. Come on!" She jumped up and took off down the hill, arms held out for balance as she tried not to fall. Laughing, I followed, wind whipping my hair into my eyes and drawing tears. I swooped down at the base and threw Grace over one shoulder, still giggling as she pounded on my back.

I set her down after a moment of twirling her around and we walked back to her truck, hand in hand. Grace knew where it was (again, not having been there due to still being grounded, dammit) and took us there just as the sun was beginning to sink.

Yikes. So much for my plan. We'd spent most of the day at the park, just talking.

Grace roared out of the parking lot, taking a few side streets and finally coming to a rest fifteen minutes later. Dusk had settled and my stomach rumbled unhappily. "I'm hungry," I whined. "When can we go get something to eat?"

"In a minute!" Grace said, grabbing my hand and pulling me impatiently forward. "Here. This is a game booth." She looked at me mulishly. "Will you win me a stuffed animal?"

I looked at the booth. It was empty. No person, no rip-off game, no huge plush toys to be envied. "There's nothing there."

"Play pretend, idiot," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She pointed up to one of the racks and grinned. "The big monkey, please?"

"Okay," I agreed, and picked up a pretend-baseball and launched it at the pretend milk jugs. They fell to the ground with a silent clatter and I jumped up and down with a loud whoop. "That one, good sir," I said gallantly, and handed Grace an armful of pretend factory goods.

"Thanks," she said, and stood on her toes to peck me on the cheek. With a wink, she politely informed me that to get one on the lips, I had to win her more stuffed animals. A challenge I heartily accepted.

At least, I was all prepared to continue my quest for the fair maiden's kiss when my watch began to flash yet again. Swallowing a groan of frustration, I waved off Grace's concern and stalked behind a tent to answer.

"What the hell?" I barked. "I was given permission to go on an all-day date with Grace and you idiots can't even put your pants on without someone holding your hand?!" I was pissed. I wanted a stress- and mutant-free day, not one where I was being pestered. So far, even if it was only twice, I wasn't happy as a result.

"Loki."

Oh shit. That was the Professor. I was gonna hear it now. "Um... hi?"

"We will discuss that later. Now, we have a situation. Regrettably, you must finish your date and meet us at the Circus of Mystery."

"The where?"

"The carnival you couldn't go to." Was it just me or was he getting snippy? He probably was. Prolonged exposure to snark can do that to a person.

"I'm there. I mean, Grace drove us here to check it out. So, yeah," I said sheepishly, running a hand through my hair.

There was a rush of static as Xavier sighed. "Convince her to go home. Watch out for Mesmero." Before I could ask who the hell that was, he terminated the link. Gritting my teeth in frustration, I stomped back out and met up with a dancing Grace.

She took one look and translated my tense muscles and bad attitude as something was wrong. Before she could ask, I pulled her in for a hug. Allowing myself only a moment to revel in the way she fit into my arms, I backed away and said, "You need to leave."

"Why?"

"Something's come up. I'm meeting a bunch of my housemates here. Sorry," I murmured, giving her a quick kiss and shoving her off in the direction of her car.

"Can't you tell me what's going on?" Grace said as she twisted back around, a spark of rebelliousness flaring to life in her eyes.

"Do you trust me?"

She gave me a strange look. "Of course."

"Then trust me when I say you aren't going to want to be around when everyone comes." I pleaded with my eyes for her to listen and she did, crossing her arms and stalking back to her truck. Before I could watch her drive off, something tapped me on my shoulder and I whirled around, hands held out.

"Tense?" Logan offered. Behind him, Rogue, Scott, and Beast were peering around, trying to locate this mysterious 'Mesmero' figure.

"A bit, yeah," I snapped, and kicked the nearest thing I could find. "Damn it!" I swore loudly.

I have to imagine that Logan was going to give me something to swear about but someone beat me to the punch. Spyke, I believe, because he's the only person I know who shoots things that are pointy and like to lodge themselves in my arms. I dropped to my knees, biting through my lip in order to keep from screaming because getting stabbed hurts. A lot, actually.

"I don't want to hurt them," Rogue said quietly as she watched Spyke warily.

"We ain't hurtin' 'em, just subduin' 'em," Logan replied smartly as he circled around Kitty. After a moment, though, he stopped and shook his head. "I can't hurt you, half-pint." Kitty promptly kicked him in the shin. He grabbed the injured area, hopping up and down.

I struggled to get to my feet, watching as things began to descend into chaos before me. Scott was firing at Jean, who danced around them mid-air; Rogue was dodging more spikes from Evan, and Kitty was still running circles around Logan. Grunting, I tugged my arm around and yanked the spike out of my left arm, letting the bone drop through numb fingers to land on the ground.

It started sizzling and I looked at it dispassionately. Oh, fun. I so enjoy being put in mortal danger.

Something yanked on my arm and I went flying, flailing around as I became human fodder for Jean to throw at people. Somewhere along the line she switched targets and I crashed onto Rogue, who shoved me off and dived at Jean, splaying her hands over the redhead's face.

I picked myself off the ground and noted that being thrown and landing on someone might accidentally hit the 'off' button for an image inducer. I slashed my hand out and knocked Kitty into a tent, throwing another blade at the tent itself to make it tear open.

The face of the guy inside made me jerk back in surprise. It was covered in tattoos, and he wore a cruel smirk as his mouth moved. Xavier flew out of the opening sans wheelchair, and I rushed over, checking to make sure he still had a pulse.

"Mesmero does not fall easily to you, Xavier," he drawled. It made me shiver: too smooth and fake. Like he was the walking dead.

"Well, let's see how well you do with me!" I snarled, and leaped for him, tossing a blade which he dodged easily. I threw a punch at his face and he elegantly grabbed my wrist, flipping me over his shoulder in one swift motion.

I managed to tuck into a roll, ignoring the stabbing pain from my arms, and rose to my feet, launching a new technique I'd worked on a few weeks back: firing a cloud of little sharp winds. He didn't dodge quite as easily and I saw a nick open up on the bridge of his nose, dripping blood down his cheeks.

Smirking now, I lashed out with a roundhouse kick that he ducked, using my momentum to spin around and fire another wedge of sharp wind at him, which he ducked. I was getting frustrated now; he was freakishly fast and agile. The sleeves of my shirt had long since been eaten away and as I threw my wind at him more and more recklessly, little blue droplets began flying off my fingertips.

I could hear things wrapping up behind me. I tried one last-ditch effort to bring him down, but he blurred and reappeared in front of me. I tried to jerk back, but an iron grip fastened itself around my neck.

"You insolent little insect," he hissed.

"I've been called worse," I choked out. He smirked and regarded me with interested eyes.

He didn't say anything in response, just tossed me aside and disappeared. Groaning, I staggered to my feet, waving off Beast's attempts to doctor me. I winced and rubbed at my eyes.

This is way too complicated for a high-schooler to deal with. And, once again, I am no longer in the loop. No, wait, here comes Xavier to update me on the inner workings of the average X-Man life. Of which I am not exactly a part of, seeing as how I try to take part in these things as little as possible.

Mesmero was a puppet for some scary dude who Xavier couldn't identify. He let Mesmero take control of some people so they could get him the rings, of which make some kind of key when put together. Blah blah blah doom to us all blah.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically. "I'll be sure to watch out for random insane people, then." Seeing the discussion was over, all the newly-freed and oldly-beat up teenagers headed for the jet to get back home. I was doing the same when I heard a faint gasp.

"Loki?"

Grace stepped out and reflexively I leaned down to kiss her, but she skittered backwards and I cocked my head, confused.

Then it hit me with the force of a ton of bricks being dropped on my head.

My inducer was off.

* * *

**A/N:** Yay, new chapter. Bit of filler, I'll admit, but it's important for Loki to get this relationship thing in the works. Plus I wanted to get this out 'cuz I love you, all thirty-three of you that read the last chapter. Nothing else to say save for it's raining and this passes time like nothing else.

Leave a review if you please and I don't own it! Peace out!


	26. Don't Worry About A Thing

So. Let's take a tally of all the things that have gone wrong in my life, shall we? I'm a mutant, my father committed suicide when he found out, he dumped his own latent power into giving me nightmares whenever I sleep, bad things seem to happen every fucking day, and my girlfriend just found out I look like something Lucifer would keep company with. Not to mention the fact that this creepy-ass dude who got on the wrong side of a tattoo artist just finished screwing with us, and to top it all off, the dance is tonight.

I let my head fall back to connect sharply with the inside of the elevator. Jesus-freaking-Christ, I am so sick of everything screwing up. Grace is going to come to the dance and tell me that she hates me and never wants to see my messed-up face again, I just know it. Optimism is for losers.

"Hold the elevator!" I clenched one hand into a fist and slammed the button to keep the doors open. Jean, Kitty, and Rogue jumped in as the metal can dinged happily and began dropping.

Oh, the joys of morning DR sessions.

"So why do we even have to be here?" Kitty said, covering up a yawn with one hand.

"Not enough sleep?" Rogue teased. "You were still up at 1:30 with Lance." I barely repressed a growl and fought the urge to punch something. "Did you ask him?"

As Kitty shook her head, Jean started in on some kind of lecture about teamwork and knowing strengths and weaknesses that Rogue was able to parrot quite well, something that I'm sure pissed off our resident Golden Girl to no end. I snorted and she sent me a dirty look, but before she could get into full-blown lecture mode, I shoved past her and out the now-open doors of the elevator into the DR.

Instead of the usual death trap, Forge was tinkering around with a ton of equipment, and Kurt was already there, backpack thing strapped on and breathing mask hanging around his neck. I nodded my greeting to Forge - the last time I saw him, he had nearly run me over with a car - and he gave a distracted wave and punched a few buttons.

"I'm slowing down your teleport time, so we can get some information on the universe you travel through," Forge explained as he set the controls for whatever the damn thing was supposed to do. There was a lot more techno babble that I didn't catch because I had tuned it out, already bored. I heard Kurt bamf off to wherever his destination was.

About ten seconds passed, and then he was back, whooping and cheering because apparently that was farther away than he'd ever 'ported before and yay the world was all happy fuzzballs and lollipops. Not.

I left after that, changing into school clothes and catching the bus. Kurt crammed in next to me and I sent him a moody glower. He gave me a strangely sympathetic look and said, "Girl troubles?"

Before I could stop myself, I laughed. It was harsh and bitter, but laughter nonetheless. "That just about sums it up, yeah," I growled, letting my head slam against the window. "She saw me, Kurt, the real me. And I just stood there, and she ran away. How much clearer does it get?"

"Bad news, ja," he said, bobbing his head up and down. "But you'll see tonight. If she comes back, she must like you, and maybe you'll get a slow dance." His eyes danced with merriness and I knew he wasn't taking this seriously. He didn't know Grace the way I did... even though she loved strange and mythical things, it was the love of things from a distance. Like with animals. You could love tigers, until one suddenly was next to you all the time.

"Yeah," I muttered. "You going with anyone?"

"Not yet," he admitted, and shifted in his seat a bit. "There is this one girl, but she's so shy, I don't think..."

"Start a conversation," I suggested, and that was the end of my advice because we were there all of the sudden. I shouldered my bag and slunk off the bus, following the mindless hoard of sheep into the hell called school.

Classes flew by in a daze. I couldn't remember most of what was being taught, save for the fact that there was a test coming up I could really care less about, so I was most likely going to fail and get in trouble with Xavier. Again. Oh well, I still don't care.

I spotted Scott and Jean having a passing word and gave them a jaunty little wave, heading out for lunch, trying not to feel like a piece of shit since Grace wasn't with me. She'd avoided me all day, and all I'd seen of her were passing glimpses in the halls. She skipped the classes we had together. I tried to convince myself it didn't hurt as much as it did.

Sadly enough, I was failing.

I grabbed a bowl of something and plopped my tray down at the unofficial X-Men table, propping my head on my fist and pushing the pasta - at least I think it was pasta - around in the dish. Conversation swirled around me. Kitty chirped about how she'd gotten a date with Lance, which Scott heartily disapproved of. This sparked an argument I'd heard several times, how Lance was no good, blah blah blah.

They were really tearing into each other when a hushed voice piped up somewhere from the vicinity of Scott's chest, "Um, Scott? Will you go to the dance with me?"

I perked up, ready to watch someone else wallow in emotional distress. It was painfully obvious to everyone (in the mansion, at least, save Jean) that he liked our resident redhead. So now, we watched him flounder as this new dark-haired chick looked up at him with doe eyes and he glanced back to Jean, who had just been coming over to talk.

"Ah, sure, Taryn, I'll go, I guess." He gave a weak little smile and she practically melted.

"Great!" she gushed, hugging his arm tightly before springing to her feet. "I'll see you tonight at the dance, then!"

Once she had left, I started chuckling. I couldn't help it. The look on his face... it was absolutely priceless. I wish I had a camera.

Scott scowled darkly at me, but he was quickly distracted when Kurt began bemoaning his predicament: fuzzy fingers plus hand-to-hand contact at a dance equaled not good things.

"Gloves," I said softly. "Just wear gloves."

I ignored the following debate over my suggestion and sighed. Resting one hand on my fist, I continued to not eat and not listen for the rest of lunch.

It kind of summed up the rest of my day, too. I didn't listen to any of the teachers, I didn't listen to any of my classmates, and I sure as hell didn't listen to any of my housemates, who all ganged up and tried to snap me out of my funk. Didn't work, though.

Finally my impatience was beginning to wear on my own nerves and just before the buses left to take everyone home before the big dance, I strode up to one of Grace's friends whose name I couldn't quite recall and tapped her on the shoulder.

She was quite short, actually, so she had to crane her head up just to make eye contact.

"Have you seen Grace?" I asked shortly.

"Yeah. So?" An almost malicious glint entered her eyes and I had to clench my jaw to keep from hissing angrily at her. Damn mutant instincts.

"Could I see her?"

She shrugged. "Maybe you will, maybe you won't. Not my place to tell." I let out a grunt of frustration and turned, fully prepared to make a dramatic exit and stalk off when the short girl grabbed my sleeve.

"What?" I snarled, whirling around on her.

"She won't tell us what's wrong," she said, and now she was deadly serious. "I just want you to know that if you hurt her, I'm going to kill you. I have places to hide bodies, you know." If her creepy demeanor hadn't scared me off, this was a definite reason to run.

"Alright," I said, weirded out. "I'm going to talk to her at the dance tonight."

"Okay then." With that, she wandered off, probably to go eat babies or something equally as horrifying.

I boarded my bus with just enough time for the driver to glare at me before he slammed the gas pedal to the floor, sending me flying down the aisle and into an empty seat. Glaring at him through my bangs, I settled for taking a power nap before we had to go and most likely practice again. Damn Xavier and his damn training.

Once we'd been dropped off, we had a few spare minutes to get changed into our uniforms before meeting Xavier in the Cerebro chamber. Dare I say it? Has he finally realized that DR sessions are dangerous?

"Gather round," he said gravely, steepling his fingers. "We have the footage from Kurt's teleportation this morning." He pressed a button.

The world Kurt passed through was noxious, all reds and oranges, with nasty looking lava rivers and jutting precipes from around every corner. And the icing on the cake: evil dinosaurs on steroids. Yikes.

"Who would like to volunteer for another test journey?" Xavier said mildly.

No one raised their hand. Big surprise.

"I'll go," Logan said gruffly. "No lizard's gonna scare me away."

Silence.

"How about you, Loki?"

I had been edging away from the viewscreen, where a frozen image of a shadowy figure from the dimension had been displayed. I saw spines and a lot of teeth.

"Must I?" I drawled.

Xavier gave me an irritated Look and I held up my hands, throwing him my best look of innocence. "What help could I possibly offer them?" I said instead. "Kurt's teleporting, Logan's the muscle. What would you need me for? Good looks?"

One elegant eyebrow arched as Xavier said in a peaceful voice, "And what would happen if Wolverine was incapacitated?"

"They'd probably be dead?" If possible, his look got even sterner than before. I let my voice drop into a whine, acknowledging that I'd lost the battle. "But Professor, why do I have to do it?"

"You need the distraction." And that was the end of that conversation, apparently. Grumbling under my breath, I followed the troupe of teens out of the Chamber and broke off to head to the DR. After that, it was a matter of standing still so Forge could hook me and Logan up to Kurt's original apparatus. I fitted the breathing mask over my face and sighed, clouding the plastic over for a moment.

"Alright, Kurt, you're good to go!"

Kurt latched one hand around my wrist and we were off, disappeared in a puff of foul-smelling smoke.

The dimension foamed into being, and I could feel the heat through my suit. Sweat began trickling down my face and back and I groaned. "Great. If we're not dino chow, we're going to be barbecued instead."

We floated on for a bit, until I spotted a ripple of motion out of the corner of my eye. I whirled around, sending Kurt and Logan spinning, and then before we could react, we were under attack.

One of the steroid dinosaurs leaped down from above and severed the tether that kept the three of us bound together. I went spinning off, my back crashing into a rock face, and I slashed at the air, sending a sharp blade at it. The silver bit deeply into it's side and glistening black blood boiled out, steaming in the heat. Grinning, I flung another blade at it and almost had distracted it to the point where I could escape when something heavy dropped on me from above.

The wind rushed out of my lungs and I could feel bones crackling. My mouth opened and I tried to scream, but there was no air and I couldn't breathe. Black spots swarmed in my vision and I was a second from passing out when a flash of metallic silver saved my life. Logan gracelessly tossed me over one shoulder, making me writhe in pain, and then our time was up and we landed in the school's gym.

I coughed and blood spewed from my mouth, burning the wooden floor like acid.

"Relax, kid," Logan said. "Those monsters might've cracked a rib, so don't move."

Hah. Like I could if I tried!

So, in the end, Kurt refused (quite sensibly, if you ask me) to 'port us back, and we had to endure a long and uncomfortable car ride as Xavier drove us home, which made me curious as to how he did it without being able to feel his legs and all.

There was just enough time to get patched up by Dr. McCoy and his Mystical Bandages of Awesomeness before it was time to go to the dance.

I sat at a table, watching people trickle in, chatting amicably with their friends or making faces at their dates. I sighed heavily and put my head down, resolving myself to a long night of helplessness. With my eyes closed, I didn't see who it was that tapped me on the shoulder, so I snapped to attention with an angry spark of silver wind hovering near my left ear.

It was Grace, and she looked stunning. I'm no dress guy, but the thing was mid-thigh, red and white and black swirled together, and her hair was light and fluffed, and she had just the right amount of make-up on to really make her features pop.

"Hey," she said with a fond smile.

My mouth was so dry, I couldn't speak. Then I swallowed and shook my head, rasping, "You look... amazing!"

She laughed and it sounded like bells. "This? Naw." She smiled again and held out her hand. "Want to dance?"

I nodded and stood, ignoring the angry twinge of my ribs. We shuffled to the dance floor and moved, and even though the music shifted and changed so many times I lost count, we couldn't stop staring at each other. Finally, a slow melody petered out and we stepped closer, me wrapping a hand around her waist and grasping her hand with fondness I hadn't been able to show since my father died.

I leaned my head against hers and it was perfection. I could have dropped dead and been a happy man.

"We need to talk," she whispered, and the world and reality came crashing down. I dipped my chin and sighed heavily, twirling her around one last time. The slow dance ended and I escorted her outside, into the empty halls.

"I know that was you, Loki," she started out, and I flinched. "Believe it or not, it wasn't the first time."

My mouth dropped open. "What?" I shoved out past the lump in my throat.

"Do you remember that day you walked to Xavier's? That first day, with all your blankets?" I winced. That wasn't a fond memory she insisted on dragging up.

"Yeah."

"I saw you, and your ears, and your eyes. We would have lived across the street, you know." She shrugged, and my head sank lower. "I knew you were special. I just wish you could have trusted me with your secret."

"I tried!" The words flew out before I could stop them. "So many times I'd come close to telling you, and then this crazy fucked up life I traded for my normal one would interefere. That wolf attack? The one that put you in the hospital? That was a man, and he lives down the hall from me. He's addicted to chemistry and won't shut up on the morals of Shakespeare." I laughed soundlessly. "If I told you, you would have thought I was insane, or I was a freak."

"Loki..."

"And that's not the worst part!" My voice was climbing hysterically, but I couldn't seem to stop. "The worst part is, I can't be normal ever again! I can't do all the things I used to do, like play sports, or hang out, because I always have that fear that the people who've attacked me in the past will use them as bait!"

"Loki, I-"

"And have you seen my face? I look like the fucking devil! I could go kill someone at any time because of what I am! You just don't-"

And then her lips were on mine, and all the words that frothed in my brain were wiped clean.

She drew back, a content look in her eyes. "I love you," she said firmly. "And I don't need a pretty face to help that." She gave me a curious look and murmured, "Will you let me see you? The real you?"

I shook my head, covering the watch. "You won't like what you see," I whispered, feeling my eyes burn.

"Let me be the judge of that." And her fingers were around mine and I felt the tingle that meant my inducer was off. I ducked my head, closing my eyes and biting my lip so hard the fangs pricked and drew blood. Grace tilted my chin up and pressed her lips to mine again, sending electricity to my toes and back.

My eyes slid open and she gasped lightly, her own eyes round with wonder. Her fingertips traced my ears and my face, hovering over my eyes and threading through my hair.

"Silver is one of my favorite colors, you know," she said with a grin.

I smiled, and it was an honest smile, pure and full of relief. I tugged her into my arms and she didn't fight.

"We still have a lot to talk about," Grace said, and I nodded.

"I think it can wait. We've got a dance to enjoy," I whispered in her ear and kissed her head lightly, fondly. The world, for once, had agreed with me. It hadn't turned its back on me, the way I had thought it would. It was a nice change of events.

There was a soft growl and then we were flying through the air. I twisted so I would take the blow into the wall and nearly choked on the blood that welled up. Setting Grace aside with a firm "Stay there!" I stood, holding my hands aloft.

"Use your wind!" she cheered, and for a moment I wondered how she could not be freaked out, because seeing one of those red steroid dinosaurs would have scared the shit out of me, had I not been involved in all this weirdness.

Obliging her, I lashed out with a powerful wave that neatly sliced the frill thing off its back. It roared angrily and charged, over-sized jaws snapping. I dodged out of the way, nimble as an injured teenager who'd just been given a huge shock. Essentially, it took a small chunk out of my arm, but that was about it.

I held the bleeding limb to my chest and tried to summon an enormous wedge that would tear the thing in two. It didn't quite manage that, but it gouged out most of its brain, so it flopped to the floor, leaking black blood and ichor everywhere. I sank to the ground, one hand wrapped around my wound, the other around clenched to keep me from screaming aloud.

That shit hurt, dammit!

"Oh my god," Grace breathed, and she was at my side, extending one trembling hand to touch the wound. I jerked it back and hissed as it throbbed.

"My- my blood," I said thickly. "It's different. Corrosive. If you touch it, you could seriously hurt yourself."

She nodded, and looked so helpless that I laughed. "What's so funny?" she snarled. "You're really hurt!"

"This," I wheezed, "is the first time I've had someone more concerned that I'm hurt than angry that I got hurt in the first place."

Grace drew back, a horrified look. "You've been hurt more than once?"

I just laughed and laughed. It clawed its way out of my throat and I couldn't stop. Oh, this was great. I'll admit, having Grace on my side was a nice touch, because she didn't hate me, but her concern amused me in a masochistic way.

Eventually Forge came along and zapped the thing back into it's proper place, dead as it might have been. Grace got a proper introduction to my friends (meaning she got to learn what their powers were, and spoke with the Professor about our secret) and was given free reign to visit, so long as she phoned first.

Everyone was genuinely happy for me, save for Kurt, and that was only because he wasn't there. I shrugged.

Oh well. Can't win 'em all.

But this time, I kinda feel like I did.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry it's been so long! Yikes! Hope this makes up for it. I don't own! Don't sue! There isn't a whole lot of stuff to say, besides the usual thanks and a big plea for all seventy or so who read but didn't review. Please! If you're reading this! Click the button and tell me what you thought! Peace!


	27. Another Fun Adventure

Have you ever noticed how nice it is to be alone sometimes?

Don't get me wrong, I like being around hyperactive little monsters as much as the next antisocial mutant teenager, but every now and then you really just need to get out of the place and just chill. Which is what I'm doing now: chilling.

Granted, it's about three in the morning and I'm sitting on the roof of the mansion, everyone else is dead to the world and I'm bored out of my skull, but still. It's better than being serenaded with complaints about homework and how Bobby keeps stealing the last of the milk every other day when someone else attempts to have cereal for breakfast, or how Evan keeps leaving his skateboard in the front hall and how Kurt is shedding in the showers again.

Peaceful. Quiet. For once. I took a deep breath, tasting the night's chill on the air, and a violet shiver shuddered through me. I had several blankets on but the cold never failed to mess up my insides more than they already were.

A loud wail shattered the stillness and I jerked in surprise, nearly losing my precarious balance and only saving myself from falling off the roof to a horrible death by grabbing on to the gutter. Then I was hanging and still in danger of falling, so nothing really was solved.

What to do, what to do.

"Help!" I shouted. I swung back the tiniest bit and kicked the wall as hard as I could. If I was lucky, it would be someone's room. If I wasn't lucky, it would be a teacher's room and I'd get in twice as much trouble.

There was an echoing crash and a bone-jarring thump which nearly made me lose my grip again, but something furry wrapped around my waist and hauled me inside before I could complain, and when I was firmly seated on the wood floor I sighed and fell back, laying flat so I was facing the ceiling.

"Can we just call that my near-death experience for the week and not piss off anyone important?" I said under my breath, and when I looked up Dr. McCoy was staring at me, one corner of his lips lifted in a half-smile so I could see his fangs in the waning moonlight.

"What were you doing out?" I asked a bit louder.

His grin vanished and he seemed to wilt a bit, gingerly walking over to the window to stare out into the distance where I could vaguely see the town spread out, streetlights blinking on and off. "Just... wandering," he said after a moment.

"Sure. And I was just hanging out for the fun of it," I muttered sarcastically.

"At least you can go back," he bit out, whirling around. There was a muted crunching sound as he moodily punched the floor and reduced the wood fibers to pulp.

"If you sucked up your stupid pride, you could too," I shot back. Standing, dusting off my butt, I stomped out of the room and slammed the door shut, ignoring the curiously sleepy faces that poked out of various rooms as I stalked down the hall to the rec room.

What an idiot. He can't stop wallowing in his self-pity about how freaky he looks now, even though we've got a couple of people here who look just as bad, namely me. But you don't see me whining about it all the time, do you? Don't answer that. At least I wear an inducer.

Am I conviently omitting the fact that he had his mental breakdown before turning blue? Of course. Anything to help bolster my side works.

I wiled away the early morning hours of the day flicking little silver blades at the ceiling and dodging the dust that came down with each slice. It worked for about two hours until I accidentally broke through and caught sight of pink and purple underwear, at which point I wanted to claw my eyes out because I wasn't under any girl's room. And by that time, I realized I was sort of late for the early DR session, so I mosied my way down there just in time for a lecture.

Of course, I mostly ignored it, but the Professor noticed my thoughts drifting (duh, right? Telepath, even if he says he doesn't go rooting around in my mostly empty skull) and assigned me a list of chores to do in the next week or so, but he must have remembered something because he pulled me off to the side along with Kitty and Evan, both of whom looked very confused.

"I've spoken with your teachers," he began in a stern tone and I felt my stomach drop. Starting out with that sentence never ends well. "Kitty, Evan, you both are failing your Environmental Sciences class, though you've had ample amounts of extra credit work assigned. And Loki..." He gave me an exasperated look. "You are failing your Biology class."

Quick note: after our Chem teacher went AWOL (I know where he is, but that's not the point) they couldn't just let us hang so they stuck us in some other class to work in until a new teacher is hired. I got stuck in biology. Yeah.

I nodded after a moment's thought. Crazy old lady, lots of excess facial hair... never listened, too busy with sleeping... yep, that was the class.

"I have arranged a trip to the Redwood Forest-" I opened my mouth to speak but he held up one hand and I held silent obligingly "-yes, Loki, we have a small protected area up north. Dr. McCoy will lead you three, and perhaps a few others, to study for a project I have asked you to be allowed to participate in." Kitty and Evan grumbled and agreed, walking off, but I stayed behind.

"Can Grace come?" I asked.

"Considering all things, Loki, not the least of which are your grades and your escapades this morning, I should say no." I shrugged.

"I didn't break anything," I offered.

"No, but we will have to fix the gutters, unless you want Hank's room filled with water the next time it rains," he said, clasping his hands together in his lap. "The jet leaves in one hour. Gather your things and contact Grace. You are excused from the session this morning. You two as well," he added, and Kitty and Evan brightened a bit.

Well, you don't have to tell me more than once. I bolted out of the lower level, taking the stairs two at a time, not even caring about how much I was irritating my lungs by running, not quite remembering that it was o'dark thirty in the morning as I grabbed the house phone and stabbed the numbers to Grace's cell phone.

She answered after eight rings with a very sleepy "Hewwo?"

"Grace, I'm going on a trip to the Redwood Forest, wanna come?" I said in a rush. There was silence, then a quiet rush of static.

"Why're you up so early?" she said groggily.

"I don't sleep. Yes or no?" I said impatiently.

I could almost see her face scrunching up as she thought about it. I tapped my foot while she debated and couldn't help but let out a loud whoop when she finally replied, "Sure." I almost hung up, but a quick "I've got a lot of questions!" gave me pause and I froze, the dial tone beeping in my ear obnoxiously.

Questions? About what?

"Ready to go?" Dr. McCoy said from behind me and I jumped, a guilty look flashing across my face as the phone dropped from my fingers and clattered to the ground. I bent over to pick it up and nodded, relaying the latest in recent news about Grace. After that all I needed to do was pack a bag and wait.

Neither took very long; there wasn't a lot to pack anyways and Grace didn't live that far away, so when the door rang I raced down to get it, only just remembering to turn my inducer on (you tend to forget when you live in the mansion, no one really cares anymore) when I yanked it open.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi." Grace stepped in, her long pants swishing together, a backpack securely in one hand, and gave me a funny look. "You aren't..." It took her a moment to find the right words. "Normal?"

What? Oh.

"No," I said tightly. "C'mon, the jet leaves in a few minutes." Her eyes grew to the size of saucers and I had to explain that yes, we had a private jet and no, we didn't use it to take joyrides around the world, though I thought it was a good vacation idea and kept the journey to the asteroid under wraps.

We walked and talked the whole way there and when she saw the jet, she stood still, mouth agape, and I had to drag her up the steps and get her to sit still long enough to buckle her seat belt. She was like an overactive little toddler, with a bigger brain and nicer body. I couldn't help but smile at her the entire trip (all ten minutes of it - supersonic speed, gotta love it).

Beast led the way as we disembarked, me distracting Grace so we were the last ones off. I still hadn't forgotten that incident with Dr. McCoy when he lost control that first time, nor about what I blurted out to Grace at the dance. Yikes. My plans were going perfectly until one of the New Mutants (Bobby, the little snot) iced up a tree on accident that Beast was swinging from and made the man slip.

He was graceful enough to land on his feet. My Grace was not. She spotted him, tripped backwards into my arms, and held out one shaking arm.

"I-it's that thing! I remember it! Loki, do something!"

I sighed heavily. "I can't."

She whirled on me. "Why not? You've got the powers, right? Distract it and let's get back to the jet!"

"No, I can't, because if I do, he'll fail me in the classes I'm taking. Not only that, I'd get grounded." I grimaced. "His name is Dr. McCoy. He's really a nice guy, if a bit old fashioned."

Beast stood up at his full height and approached us. Grace was trembling like a leaf in my arms and all the other participants of the trip (Evan, Kitty, and two other New Mutants: Roberto and Rahne, a.k.a. Sunspot and Wolfsbane) were gathered around, watching quietly. "It's okay," I whispered, rubbing her arms. "He's nice. It's okay."

"Hello," Dr. McCoy said gravely and held out one large hand slowly. "I would like to apologize for the injury you received from me. I was - not myself at the time." He gave a self-depreciating smile. "I don't think I've quite forgiven myself yet. Neither, I imagine, has Loki."

I snorted. "Shut up, fuzzball," I said amicably. "You just wait."

Grace took a deep breath and grabbed his hand, shaking it. A look of wonder passed over her features and she drew back, looking at her hand and wiggling her fingers.

"Does it tickle, having fur everywhere like that?" I blinked, then laughed, and Dr. McCoy chuckled a bit, and I dragged her off and silenced her squeak of complaint with a quick kiss.

"Onwards!" Beast cried, and he leaped up into the trees, swinging from branch to branch and having a grand old time, calling out interesting bits of the forest every now and then. Grace and I held hands, walking behind at a more sedate pace, identical goofy smiles pasted on our faces. It was very nice, not having to worry about much. Missing school was a plus, too.

"So," Grace began hesitantly and I looked down at her, concern and worry flashing through me. I tensed. "Why don't you... There's no one around... I mean... Show me your face?" She stopped, making me stop as well, and put one hand on my watch. I stiffened even further, if possible.

"No."

"Why not?"

I untangled my hand from hers and took a step in the opposite direction. "It's... complicated."

"You showed me the other day," she reminded me. "At the dance. There was a lot more risk then." I shrugged, stuffing my hands in my pockets. "Please, Loki. I like it. It's very nice."

"It's not about nice or any bullshit like that," I growled and slammed the watch against the nearest tree trunk. I whirled around, baring my teeth, and she shrank back, fear shining in her eyes. I looked away and she realized her error, but it was too late. I had already turned the inducer back on.

"Loki, I'm sorry," she said honestly. "Don't do that. Don't be that way. Stubborn idiot."

I gave a small grin and half-turned so she could see me smile and she took that as a forgiving move and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around my chest and pushing her face into my shirt. "What is it about, if it's not how you look?" Grace asked after a quiet moment.

"I scare you. I'm wanted. What else is there..." At her questioning look, I elaborated. "At the hospital. After you got attacked by Dr. McCoy. You don't remember that?" She shook her head no, sending her short curls bouncing. "I broke out of the hospital after they were going to send me to the government to see what was wrong with me." Another sardonic smile. "Lucky me."

She rolled her eyes. "Dr. Jasper did it, right?" My eyebrows disappeared into my hairline. "He's such a jerk sometimes. We used to be pretty good friends in elementary school, when we were in the same class. Before he took an IQ test and his parents transfered him to a genius school." She sighed. "He thinks because he's smart he can do things to indulge his curiosity, even if it hurts other people. It's a big weakness of his."

"Not one of mine, though. I have no curiosity whatsoever," I joked, picking her up and swinging her around, but when my vision was obscured by blue I almost dropped her.

Beast gave me a cheeky grin, though it looked like a frown from my viewpoint, mostly because he was upside-down at the time.

"I want you to find five different species of plant in this forest. Redwood trees don't count," he warned. I frowned for real. "Meet back at the jet in four hours. I left markers." He winked. "Just don't go doing anything naughty, you two."

My face darkened to whatever shade I turn when I blush, which I don't believe is red, but with the inducer on, it didn't really matter. "Go on, Beast," I said instead. "Go jump around in the trees some more."

It was his turn to get embarrassed, because he dipped his head down to his chest and swung off, leaving Grace and I all alone to wander through the forest. We crunched through old leaves, Grace attempting to complete our assignment and me trying not to fall asleep while standing up. I was rapidly approaching that time of the month (ha ha) when I needed to rest, much as it pained me.

Then the interrogation began.

"So how many powers do mutants have?" Grace said out of nowhere. I shrugged.

"One. Maybe two. Not much more than that, I think."

"How well can you control that stuff you shoot?"

"My wind? Decently enough. I haven't killed anyone-" yet, I've got my sights on some old guy wearing a can on his head "-but it gets out of control if I loose focus. I hurt myself more than anything, though."

"Why are your eyes silver? Why is your hair white?"

"I dunno." Magnets-for-brains thought it would be fun to screw around with my body and turned me into an even bigger freak than I used to be.

"How-"

I let out a groan. "What's with the third degree? I'm innocent, I tell you!"

She laughed lightly and rolled her eyes. Letting out a little breath, she plopped down on a rock situated somewhere alongside a river, crossing her legs and pulling out her water bottle. "I can't be curious about my boyfriend?" she asked sweetly.

"No." That made the smug look drop off her face and I sighed, wandering over somewhere off in the distance when something dropped on me from above and something jumped up from below. I fell back with a startled shout and the body on top of me toppled off, blue fur ruffling anxiously as some kind of cage sprung up around us.

I did the first thing I could think of: I grabbed hold of the bars and was about to scream my fool head off when I received what felt like several thousand volts of electricity to everywhere all at once. My legs gave out and I laid there, the world gone sideways providing some actual entertainment for my double vision. A little chuckle worked its way out of me and I only sort of felt Beast prop me back up again.

Grace was kneeling in front of the cage, both hands up and reaching. I coughed (was that smoke I saw?) and rasped, "Stay back!"

She flinched away from my harsh tone and looked off to the side all of the sudden. Before I could ask what was wrong she had darted into the underbrush, leaving me trapped in a cage with Beast. I had to laugh at that thought and the people who were now approaching us in Grace's place gasped.

I couldn't hear all of what they were saying but I caught "Bigfoot" and "forest elf". By that time they'd managed to hook up our cage gizmo to some kind of carrier and were dragging us off.

"Grace," I whispered. "Don't leave me..."

I lost a fair bit of time to blackness, but that was the aftereffects of the zapping, I'm sure. When I came back to consciousness, I was still in the cage (oh, fun) and it was night. There was a fire burning merrily and Beast was sitting, thoughtfully silent, at the other end of the cage. All around the camp were people, running around like an upturned anthill, shouting and drinking. I huffed impatiently and Dr. McCoy looked over, gave me the sign for 'shut your stupid ass up!' and turned back around.

I glared at him and stood, throwing a silent 'screw you!' right back. "Hello?" I called loudly. "Is anyone there? I want a lawyer!"

The entire camp went silent for a split second before everyone exploded into talk and began crowding around the cage.

"...intelligent enough..."

"...Germanic or Icelandic I thought, at least..."

"...the elf wanted from the tube..."

At that last comment I perked right up, reaching one hand up to feel my ears which were not plastered to my head the way they should be, and when I finally put one and one together to get fish I realized the shock shorted out my inducer and instead of being able to bargain my way out I was now headed to God knows where with the man who believes Shakespeare has the answer in every monologue.

A loud conversation off to my left distracted me from making faces at the rednecks goggling at us through the cage.

"No worries, Doctor," the first guy said in a booming voice. I guessed he was the leader of this expedition, if only by the way his ego seemed to be smothering me. Just kidding. He was big, with dark skin and a safari hat on. I rolled my eyes. "We'll have them shipped off and stuffed. The world will finally be able to enjoy such magnificent creatures!"

The Doc was outraged. The complete antithesis of the hunter dude, he was diminutive and frail, the kind of guy even social rejects like myself would have stayed away from in high school.

"You can't stuff them!" he said, scandalized. I snickered behind one hand. "They're the only ones of their species! If you kill them now, how will they reproduce?" Cue Epic Blush. "How will they show us all they have to offer?"

The hunter shrugged. "That's the plan, Doctor," he said in an oily voice. "We'll be seeing you."

The Doc took that as a dismissal and stalked off. Probably going off to cry into his lab coat.

Pity I don't have respect for anyone anymore. See what life at Xavier's has done to me?

Now that I couldn't do anything for fear of getting electrocuted (or stuffed - let's not forget that!), I was forced to play the waiting game with Beast, who just sat there. I spent the next four and a half hours flicking little blades of wind at the bars, watching gloomily as they were deflected by the shock force-field thing. Oh joy. Just what I need.

I must have drifted off into sleep somewhere along the lines because when I awoke I was flat on my back, my muscles ached, there was a distinct smell of smoked meat hanging about my person and Beast was clenching one hand around my mouth to keep me from screaming.

"You starting having nightmares," he whispered. "I didn't want to wake the camp. I apologize."

"'S okay," I whispered through a dry throat. "Probably for the best."

"I hate to interrupt," said a cheerful voice who didn't sound as if he meant what he was saying in the least, "but I think it's about time to get you out, don't you?"

"How wonderful," I replied in a scathing voice. The Doctor flinched back and I shot him a grin full of fang. "And here I thought we were about to go get stuffed."

The tiny little doctor actually growled, his hands balling into fists. "That's wrong," he said in a low voice. "You need to be able to run free and live your lives." I shot Dr. McCoy an aggravated look. How I wanted to tell this guy... I'm not an animal, I'm a teenage boy, and living in the forest isn't my idea of freedom. Nice try, can we take a rain check on that freedom? "I'm here to rescue you."

"There's no need for that," Beast said quietly. "If my thoughts are correct, this cage has been lined with-" science talk I didn't understand, blah blah blah, "-so I've been working on it all day and with this last adjustment, I should be able to-" He grimaced, jerked once, and fell silent.

"Dr. McCoy?" I ventured softly, shaking the man's shoulder. He didn't move. I rolled him over slightly and saw two darts sticking out of his other side. I squinted up into the darkness and saw only the flash of white teeth and the barrel of a gun before the cage jerked, sending me flying backwards. We were moving.

And I was being crushed. For a guy who spends all day reading there sure is a lot of muscle. With a grunt of effort I heaved him off, wincing as the cage bounced and bounded over pothole after pothole.

Shit. Shit, shit, and double shit. On a shingle.

I couldn't get out. We were being hauled along, have been for an hour, I can't use my wind because the bloody thing won't break, and the only guy even close to getting us out was unconscious. Joy upon joys.

I was just beginning to think things couldn't get any worse when I peered around the bars to see the river on the other side, and a giant wall of mud and ice heading straight for us. I closed my eyes and wished I could suddenly teleport.

No surprise there, but it didn't work, and when I opened them I was slowly but surely sinking into said river. My muscles began locking up, one after another, until I couldn't move and could hardly breathe.

The cage sank. We were still in it. The water was cold.

Need I say more?

I thought I was dead. Honestly. I wasn't breathing or anything, Grace told me, when Rahne pulled us out of the water. Grace even had to do CPR and everything.

I shot straight up and rolled over, cold river water spewing out of my mouth. Along with that came a flurry of curse words. Grace patted my back, pushing my hair out of my eyes so it stuck up in every direction. When I finally managed to control my dry heaves I looked up.

Tears dripped down her face.

"Don't ever do that again," she whispered fiercely. "Don't leave me like that."

She leaped on top of me, dragging us both to the ground, but it was a move made from exhaustion rather than actual anger.

"I'll try," I murmured, holding her tight against my shivering body. "But I can't promise anything."

Wrong thing to say. Now she was on the warpath.

* * *

**A/N: **New chapter. Don't own. Review please?


	28. A New Friend, Not

As a teenager, I have a... rather twisted sense of humor. I laugh at people tripping, small animals getting run over, and overall enjoy watching idiots make fools of themselves. Because this makes me laugh, I rarely run out of entertainment. Especially around here.

I never could have imagined how amazing it would be to watch Grace chew out the Professor.

"Sending him off on dangerous missions, letting him get hurt-! He's got school to think about, his future, and you're using him like some kind of reusable weapon!" She slammed her open hand down on his desk, but he didn't flinch. I did, though, and she proceeded to use that as yet another example. "He can't even sit without flinching at loud noises! Is this the kind of soldier you're training? Someone you can wind up and use when you need someone to prove a point?"

"Ah, Grace-" She twisted around and glared at me, her eyes sparking. I fell back, silent.

I am such a beaten dog. Though I have to say she's starting to sound less like a concerned girlfriend and more like a pissed off mother.

"The least you could do is give him a break so he can start acting like a normal teenager again!" she fumed. Xavier inclined his head but said nothing. "Maybe he should come live with me."

That caught my attention. I loved Grace dearly, but Xavier... well, needless to say, he'd been there. At the beginning. Yeah.

"Grace," I muttered warningly and yanked on her wrist so she was sent sprawling back into the other chair in front of the Professor's desk. "Cool it, alright? It's no big deal. Really."

She looked at me, eyebrows furrowed, and let out a heavy breath. Tensing, she turned back to the bald man in the wheelchair and said in a low, threatening voice, "If he gets hurt again, don't think I won't hesitate to take legal action. No one needs to fight this young." With that, she stalked out, slamming the door on her way out. I could just barely hear a few shouts of surprise from various mutants as she stormed to the foyer and showed herself out.

Grace had been pretty commonplace around here for a bit, so a lot of people had gotten used to not having to hide (except from her undying sense of curiosity, of course - she once pestered Miss Ororo with questions for three straight hours), but there were a few who still managed to get nervous whenever a 'human' was about.

Okay, it was mostly Kurt, but whatever.

I sighed and turned back to Xavier, who rolled out from behind his desk while giving me a side-long glance.

"I'm sorry," I said after a moment. "She's-"

"Quite correct," Xavier interrupted mildly. "It is unfair to request so much of such young people, but as the delegates of a new species, I feel it is necessary. If at any time you believe you cannot complete your duties as an X-Man, you need only ask. No need to go gallivanting off without saying anything." Blood burned in my cheeks.

Even now that day still smarts. The one day I decided 'to hell with this' and went off to see my dad - er, Patrick. Can't really say he's a father now, can I?

"Yeah," I muttered.

There was a beat of silence. Then... "Would you like to accompany me on an excursion?"

Translate to teenager talk: Wanna go out somewhere?

I shrugged. Why not? "I guess." Then my paranoia snapped to attention. "Where and what will we be doing?"

Xavier rolled back and forth, which was his way of pacing, I guess. I sat and waited patiently for him to answer. What could he have to hide?

Bodies. Lots and lots of bodies.

I shook my head just as I heard something along the lines of "...mental institution to visit a patient."

My eyebrows disappeared into my hairline. "Why do you want to go about visiting recipients of the nearest funny farm?" Then I just about bit my tongue off at the scathing look he gave me.

"She is the daughter of a once good friend of mine. She is a mutant of some skill, with problems relating to her father. I thought you might be able to help her come to terms with that." One more frigid glare, for effect.

"Okay," I squeaked out. What else can I say? I just stuffed my foot down my throat with that comment. He gave me another deadpan look and rolled out. I levered myself up and out of the chair like my ass was on fire and followed behind, nodding to those I passed in the halls.

There was one big awkward moment where Xavier looked like he was going to fall out of the wheelchair into the vehicle designed for him (hand controls - that's how he does it) and I about had a heart attack trying to save his head from going splat but then he shimmied in and I felt like an idiot. Duh, he's done this tons of times, why should I have to worry?

To top that off, I spent twenty minutes in even more awkward silence as he avoided talking to me and I avoided thinking too loudly.

"It's not going well," he murmured after a while. I just about choked on my own air. Eavesdropping much? I feel so violated.

I threw myself out of the car, waiting impatiently at the door so we could get this visit-thing done with. Just because I got guilt-tripped into this doesn't mean I actually want to do it. So there. Xavier puttered (slowly) up the handicapped ramp and we were greeted at the door by a white-coat with glasses. He peered at us behind coke-bottle lenses and ushered us in.

"She's been much more agreeable," he reported. "Granted, she is still on the medication, but we are lowering the doses weekly. I expect great progress in the future." He opened another door at the end of the long and boring hallway and allowed us in.

Metal walls surrounded us. The door was heavy reinforced steel and the table and chairs were bolted to the ground.

I plopped into one of the chairs, wincing as its chill seeped into my clothes. A little rush of silver whooshed out with my exhalation and I sent an aggravated glare over to Xavier.

"Watch out!"

That was all the warning we received before the better part of the wall in front of us melted. I shot to my feet, hands held out in front of me, but a low, "Tempest, calm down" from the boss man made me rethink slicing and dicing. Not that I couldn't disobey, it just made living a lot easier.

A girl bounded in, long hair done in two layers of red and black twisted around her head in a dead cell corona, and took one look at Xavier and growled, "You shouldn't be here."

"Wanda," Xavier said in a warning tone.

Huh. The monster has a name. That comment got me an especially sharp look from the Professor, and I bit my tongue.

"There's a place for you at my school, if you can learn to control your anger." Wanda began shaking and waved her hands, causing the metal table to warp into something more reminiscent of an abstract work of art.

"I've been practicing," she replied and her voice took on a hoarse undertone. "When I see him, I'm going to kill him." No hesitance, no wavering voice: just cold, plain admittance. Maybe she's not so bad after all. I know back when my life turned into a shitstorm I thought that way about my father more than once that way too.

"Can I help?" I said mildly. Her attention snapped from the Prof to me, like a rubber band that just broke.

She smiled bitterly. "Do you even know who I am?" she said.

"No. Are you going to tell me or do I have to play twenty questions?"

Another self-depreciating smile. "My full name is Wanda Maximoff." I blinked. So what? "My father is Erik Lehnsherr, better known as the mutant Magneto."

I clenched my hands into fists as my winds exploded out in a gale of fury. Xavier was able to dodge the better part and Wanda waved her hands again, sending them flying off in different directions. The silver winds left ugly gashes in the steel walls.

"Perhaps it is time we left," Xavier murmured. Methinks he was getting some 'Loki's honestly serious about hurting Magneto with Wanda' vibes (completely false - I was going to hurt him with or without her help), so he tapped my arm as he rolled around the table and past Wanda, who stared apathetically at him as he left.

I dug around in my pocket and pulled out a piece of scrap paper (which I think was a note to myself about getting on paying Miss Ororo back and getting a job), nicking a pen from my other pocket (never know when you need one, so I keep a few) and scribbled down the house number with my room's extension on it. Hah! That makes me sound rather important, does it not?

"Call this if you need someone to talk too," I said and handed it to her. She eyed me distrustfully but I'm guessing my violent reaction to her father's name had her convinced I wasn't gonna try pumping her full of loopy drugs and try sequestering her off in some cell. "We've got something in common," I murmured as I passed her, walking out the melted door.

"We both hate the men who sired us."

* * *

I'm gonna be totally honest and just say that Grace's next move was completely uncalled for but so, so unintentionally hilarious.

First, an explanation. Grace had been deadly serious when she had mentioned taking legal action against the Professor.

So she got a lawyer and was lobbying on abuse charges.

She hired a lawyer from upstate New York - actually, the Big Apple. Guess who didn't know what his mother did besides robbing old men? Me! Guess which famous lawyer Grace hired? My mom! And the best part is, Grace didn't even know until she waltzed in with her, hazel eyes sparkling as she took in some... familiar surroundings.

"Mom?"

"Loki?"

"You know each other?!"

I herded the two most important women in my life into the kitchen, sat them both down, and set to busying myself (distracting them both from yelling at me) making some hot chocolate. It was going well (meaning they were glaring at each other, sizing each other up) as I hummed in false cheer, until Grace snapped, "Why didn't you tell me she was your mother?"

I laughed nervously. "Didn't know I'd be needing to."

"You don't have the same last name."

Oh. Hm. Paperwork never got filed. Or maybe it was just a threat, never actually carried out by my father - Patrick. "We divorced, me and my husband," Mom said shortly. I set a mug of cocoa down in front of her and she ignored it. "He got custody. I didn't. So Loki has his name and not mine." She settled a cool mask over her face and pulled out a briefcase.

"That's really not-"

"Charles Xavier has been abusing Loki." Sharp glare from Mom. Aimed at me. If it had been possible, I think I would have been pinned to the wall. Thank goodness the male in the family carries the mutant gene. "Not physically or sexually." How can she say that with such a straight face? I wasn't even part of this conversation and I wanted to drop into a hole! "Mentally. Xavier's warped his mind into thinking he has to put himself in danger to fulfill that man's idea of peace."

"I'm assuming you know what my son is?" Mom said coolly.

"Of course." Frigid glare. Aimed at Mom. If it had been possible, I think Mom would have been a block of ice. "He trusts me enough to show me his true face."

"Um, can I-?"

Both females sent me a death glare and I drew back. Whipped dog? Try scared little boy locked in the closet and only fed on occasion. That was how I felt when they looked at me.

"I'll just... let you two work this out." I made a quick exit and high-tailed it up to my room, flopping onto my dusty old bed and sighing heavily.

What happened to the days when I faced the world head on with sarcasm and my rapier wit as my weapons? What happened to the days when I couldn't trust anyone, had to be afraid for my life? Why was I letting these two people - who hadn't been apart of my life for more than a few months - rule how I felt?

"That was before I fell in love," I murmured to myself. "That was before I saw how much people could love me."

The phone rang loudly and I jumped, falling off the bed onto the floor in a dusty heap. I'd only been able to have a phone in my room for a little bit now, because I'd been a good little mutant and not gotten into any trouble (well, much). Not that I was ever in my room to use it. So it was a little surprising.

I grabbed for it and muttered, "Hello?"

"I never got your name. Isn't that how this is supposed to go?"

"Wanda." She snorted. "Why are you calling me?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

"No, otherwise I wouldn't be asking the question."

There was a rush of static over the phone and I could practically smell her absolute excitement, dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, you know who my father is, but you don't know why I hate him. I know you hate him, but not why, nor why you hate your own father."

My eyebrow lifted briefly. "Mutual curiosity?"

"Of course."

"Ladies first."

"Well, then, after you."

Ouch. "Got a tongue in your head, I see. Haven't met anyone with a backbone in a while."

"You're stalling."

I picked myself off the floor and sat on the bed, brushing away a dust bunny the size of a hamburger on my leg. "I hate your father because he's an asshole. Put me in some machine, changed the way I look, so I can't go out in public, whereas before I could've pulled off the costume excuse. He also messed with my bio-dad." Spewing details about Mags? No biggie. Talking about my actual father? Big no-no, at least to strangers.

"Not going to tell beyond that?"

I smirked, twirling the phone cord around one finger. "Shouldn't we save that for the second date?"

"Then you'd have to pay extra."

Hot damn. If I wasn't already with someone, I'd ask her out. I blinked and smacked my forehead. I am such a bad boyfriend.

"Alright, now that you've given me the third degree-" not really, but whatever "-what about you?"

"He left me. I was a child, and he left me at a hospital. Just stood there and watched as I was dragged away." There was a crunch and the phone line went dead.

Interesting. I wonder how she got out of the loopy bin. Sitting there, waiting to see if she'd call back or not, I couldn't help but wonder... where was she...?

The phone didn't ring again, so I abandoned my room in favor to see how the meeting turned out. By the way I could already see Grace stomping out into the foyer I knew it hadn't gone well.

"Rough day?" I murmured as I snuck up behind her, grabbing her around the waist.

"No one seems to get it," she growled and lightly smacked my nose, making me release her so we could stand face to face. "Not even your mom. She left, by the way." She sniffed indignantly. "Told me to tell you that she loved you and give her a call if you ever needed anything."

"Hm," I said with a half-grin. "Reduced from epic warrior-goddess to message-carrier. Oh how the mighty have fallen."

She took a step away, frowning at me. "You really don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?" Color me confused.

"What he's doing is wrong." Oh, that again. "He's using you. Like a pawn on his chessboard."

I grabbed my chest, saying dramatically, "Grace, you wound me! I like to think I'm a little more important than a pawn. Maybe a knight?"

Grace let out an irritated snarl and stomped out the door, shouting as she left, "God, Loki!"

I stood there, blinking in confusion, as the echo of her frustrations bounced about the elaborate foyer. I was still standing there a few minutes later when Kurt 'ported in and started babbling at me about a senior X-Men meeting or something.

What did I say? What did I do?

I was very rudely dumped into another dimension, courtesy of the resident blue idiot, and when we popped out again we were in Cerebro's chamber. Scott and Jean were there too, and I stumbled up next to them to clue in on what the hell was going on.

"There is a disturbance reported at the mall. The Brotherhood is our most likely culprit. It would be strategic to subdue them."

A disturbance? Strategic? Thank you, Darth Xavier, for sounding even less compassionate than a deep sea creature at that time of the month.

From the dark look he gave me, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say he heard that, but I could care less. I shrugged and he sighed, finishing the short debriefing with a bored, "Any questions?"

We clambered out of the place, me following sedately behind Scott and Jean, who were conversing quietly, regarding something Jean had picked up about a new mutant with them.

"Wait, new mutant?" My focus shifted abruptly.

"Something I heard from the Professor," Jean admitted as she knocked on several doors and told the occupants to get their asses in gear, mission time. "He didn't have a concrete name or face, but the mutant's powers are chaotic and wild, but also very strong."

"Sounds like he's sending us out to get our butts kicked," I muttered pessimistically as the entire group loaded up into the communal X-Van. I didn't get to drive, unfortunately, and was stuck crammed between Kitty (who 'accidentally' phased through my leg, sending shivers in places shivers didn't exactly belong) and Evan, who had conveniently forgotten to wear deodorant.

We skidded to a halt and barreled out, crashing through the door (oops...) and setting off the alarms that... didn't ring because they were cut. Right. Criminal Planning 101: make sure so that when you break in, police don't come ten seconds after.

The mall was deserted. Big surprise. I rolled my eyes and wandered over to the stores, wondering what could go on behind their mesh pull-down-things that protect against bad guys. Maybe the employees hold epic slumber parties. We'd never know.

All hell broke loose while my back was turned.

Turns out they had been waiting for us to lose focus (not terribly hard, I'll admit) so they could attack. I hid myself behind a pillar and peered out, taking in the epic chaos:

Scott and Jean were tandem-dancing with Mystique.

Evan was skateboarding with his arch-rival forever, Pietro.

Kitty was probably off making out with Lance.

Kurt was popping around the Blob, reminding me of a pesky fly irritating the fat pig lying in the stall.

Oh darn, looks like everyone's taken. I tucked my hands into my pockets and slid down until my butt hit the floor, closing my eyes and trying to rearrange my thoughts. Why was Grace mad at me? So I hadn't agreed with her about the whole Xavier issue. Was it really that big a deal?

The pillar I was leaning against suddenly was not there and I toppled backwards, landing on my back/neck and letting out a grunt of pain. I rolled over, flopping onto my stomach, and saw Jean throwing the pillar at someone.

She had short hair, red and black, and some kind of maroon coat.

Wanda!

I scrambled to my feet, gaping and working my jaw.

"Loki, watch out!"

I turned my head to behold one of Scott's beams bending mid-air to slam into my chest, burning through my uniform and blistering the skin instantly. I let out a howl and curled up into a ball, rocking on the tips of my feet, biting through my lip. Another one slammed into me from the side, overlapping with the first and charring another patch on my side.

I screamed.

Someone grabbed me, slung me over a shoulder (scraping the raw burn wound, sending fresh spurts of agony through me, making me scream again) and took off at breakneck speed for the door.

Wanda gave me a curious look and waved as we departed.

How thoughtful.

I promptly passed out.

* * *

When consciousness returned however many hours later, my chest was bandaged quite firmly, and Hank was puttering around, humming under his breath. I stood, ripping the IV line out of my hand and stalked out of the medical wing, slamming the door behind me as I left.

I didn't want to be around anyone right now. So what do delinquent teenagers do when they want to be alone?

'Borrow' a car and go somewhere no one would ever expect them to, of course.

My shirt rubbed against my bandages and I hissed angrily. I broke several laws (speeding, double yellow lines, hitting pedestrians, etc... just kidding, but only the last one) and screamed into the graveyard where my father's casket was buried.

I slammed the door and made my way through the various grave markers and finally stopped in front of his. The fresh scent of mowed grass filled my nose and I kicked the stone

_Patrick Hydimen_

_Loving Father and Husband_

_You will be missed_

Except not really. I didn't choose the headstone, Xavier did, because he seems convinced that everyone deserves a second chance and that even when people die they should be treated like angels. But that wasn't true, because he hardly treated the living well enough.

Yes, I've gone back to cynical again. I blame hormones.

"So. This must be him, then."

I didn't turn around, nor did I ask how she found me. It didn't matter, did it? We were all going to end up killing each other in the end.

"No. His body is on the moon."

"Must be a story behind that one."

I lifted one shoulder nonchalantly. "Ask your dad about it some time."

A large rock smashed into the back of my head but I hardly noticed as blood began trickling down my neck and back. My shirt was history.

"That was a little uncalled for," I murmured, offended.

"Say anything like that and I'll make sure you lose a limb," she promised.

There was silence. I flicked a blade out and it drew a long, jagged scratch through _Loving Father_.

"He abandoned me." My mouth was working without my consent. "Kicked me out when I started to show signs of being a mutant. Then he developed some dream powers and gave them to me, giving me eternal nightmares. They will never go away. So I don't sleep much." I took a deep breath. "Then he killed himself and left me alone. So I despise him."

It was true. I'd never felt such hatred before, not even at Spencer for what he did to humiliate me back in the mitten.

"Something is going to happen," she said after a pause. "Something big. _He's_ planning something. Just... be careful."

"I'm touched," I said sarcastically. "Even a member of the Brotherhood can help Xavier's grand plan for peace."

"I'm not one of them." Oh, that's a good one. "My brother is there. Best way to keep tabs on them all."

"Sure."

I turned, expecting Wanda standing there, ready to smack me or hit me again with her disrupting powers. But she was gone.

Story of my life.

* * *

**A/N: **Yay. Love me? Review. Don't own. See ya till next time!


	29. Strange Things Afoot

Do you ever get the feeling that something big is going to happen? Not something stupid like your girlfriend is going to break up with you (not!) or your math teacher is going to fail you because he hates your guts (eh... not my fault). Something huge. And serious.

Wanda's warning still bothered me, even now. It was a few weeks later, thankfully, and I was just getting the bandages off for the last time. I now had the pleasure of a big, blotchy scar along my stomach and side, the tissue pulling painfully tight just as I needed to breathe. Which, actually, was a great excuse for getting out of the early morning DR sessions.

And so it was that I was able to laze around the entertainment room while the rest of our merry team had to go get their asses kicked. Pleasant, indeed. Finally at quarter after six they trudged up from the basement, dirty, sweaty, and beheld my shining face.

Well, it wasn't shining, it was more of a grimace, because there's nothing good on at o'dark thirty in the morning. So they pleasantly ignored me as I pleasantly ignored them back and we all went about our business like good little mutants, not meeting up until we were fresh and ready for hell - I mean school.

The bus was late, again. It usually is. I rolled my eyes, ducking slightly so I didn't hit my head and hopping up the steps. I then flopped theatrically into a seat, thinking about what was going on, why I felt so nervous. I mean, honestly. I'm a mutant, yeah, but not the useful kind. All I manage to do is look weird and throw sharp things at people.

We disembarked, the yellow monster regurgitating the students into the building, and I quickened my pace. Grace managed to tackle me anyway, slamming me bodily into my locker. With a groan, I shoved her off and poked my tender ribs.

"You still hurt?" she asked cheerfully.

"No, but I might be now." I pecked her on the cheek and stowed my stuff in my little metal cubicle, pulling out a few books and slamming it shut. "You got Psych first hour?"

"Yeah."

With that, we linked hands and took off to the other end of the school. One of the best things here is that if you take a class you don't like, even in the middle of a semester, you can switch out. Granted, of course, that you can make up all the work you missed. Which is why I switched out of a hard class (I can't remember which, doesn't matter much to me) and into Psychology for Dummies.

We slipped in just as the bell rang, taking our seats. Our teacher, tall, bald, and rather intimidating, stepped forward and flipped the lights off.

"Nap time?" I whispered out of the corner of my mouth.

"Hush!"

Pouting, I slid down farther in my seat, blowing some of my unruly hair out of my eyes. A stray thought of _maybe I should get it cut soon_ floated by just as the teach finished fiddling around with his computer.

"Listen up!" His voice was deep, commanding. I looked over at him, unimpressed. If he thought that was the way to get kids to listen, he was going the wrong way. Physical punishment works wonders on a teenager's work ethic. Ask Xavier. "We're going to watch this video and I want you to write one paragraph on what factors you think brought this young woman to her conclusion."

He clicked; the projector flickered on and showed, to my surprise, the mansion.

"Just so you know," he added, "Mr. Xavier has given his permission to show this. He isn't offended in any way."

Okay, that worried me slightly. I tensed, and next to me Grace grabbed my hand under our desks.

The mansion grew, until the picture fuzzed over and the pan went from one side to the other, taking in the stately windows, the fine architecture, the brick wall and thick iron security gate.

"No one really knows much about the man that lives in the mansion," a high, squeaky voice began. I winced. No, this wasn't going to be good at all.

"What we do know, though, is that Charles Xavier is obviously wealthy, and has been generously allowing some children into his home." The mansion disappeared, replaced with Xavier's face. Immediately it was overlaid with a dark red question mark. "But why?"

"Isn't it just a bit suspicious how no one knows why he's taken in these people? For all we know, they've got parents. Maybe he kidnapped them. Maybe he picked them off the street, saving them from a life of prostitution and drugs."

I could feel my tenuous control slipping. My winds sparked around my ears, snapping loudly and flashing in the light from the video. I wanted to find this person and introduce her to the business end of my fist.

"Could it be that this man is actually a pedophile? Does he take these kids into his house and home, feed them and school them, in return for pleasure?"

The picture faded, revealing a very fuzzy view of the main group of us (me, Jean, Scott, Kitty, Kurt, and Evan) walking in the gates, and a flash of red as Kurt accidentally triggered the walkway defense system and it started firing on us. We sprang out of the way, snapping into action, moving smoothly as we methodically destroyed every firing center in the nearby vicinity.

"Or... perhaps he's training an army of assassins? No normal teenager should be able to move like that. And those silver flashes-" I flinched guiltily as the camera zoomed in on me, my features indistinguishable, flicking my wrists and sending out wind blades "-could they be weapons? No one knows."

"This is ridiculous," I snarled to no one.

"I tried talking to one of the known members of Xavier's growing cult." The view of our mini-battle ceased, replaced with a shaky feed of someone creeping behind Scott. He stopped at his locker, sunglasses glinting, and the girl pounced.

"Scott Summers? You live at the mansion on the edge of town, right?"

He looked extremely uncomfortable. I could see him shifting nervously, books in hand, chewing thoughtlessly on his lower lip. "Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"Does the man who lives there do anything... inappropriate with you?"

Scott's eyebrows shot to his hairline and he slammed his locker shut, stalking off. His shoulders were tense. I felt about the same way.

"No! Don't go! Is he training you? Is something going on?" Scott whirled around, smacking the camera out of the chick's hands, and it landed on the ground with a clatter. I didn't get to see the end of the crudely made film because at that point my patience snapped, and with it went my control. One dangerously sharp silver wind manifested by my hand and dug itself into the desk with a muted screech.

I stood, grabbing my books and ignoring the way both Grace and the teacher made to stop me, but by the horrified look on both their faces I figured I had a rather murderous expression. So they sat back to watch, eyes on me as the door slammed behind me.

The rest of the day was spent in a blind fury. No one dared talk to me, not even Grace, but she stood by me silently as I ignored everything around me. God, that video pissed me off! Who the hell thinks like that? Crazy paranoid people, that's who!

It wasn't until we were riding the bus back home did I come to my senses, disembarking with a new idea in mind: talk to Scott about what the hell was going on. He talked to the crazy chick, he must have some idea of why Xavier would even let that thing still exist. I mean, not only was it just bad in general, but it made us and Xavier look like some kind of psychopathic murderer-in-training.

Of course, I didn't find him until about ten seconds before we were due to run a special exercise called by the big man himself, so I suited up and stomped into the DR with one thought in mind; to find something to kill to let all this negativity out. See, I am learning something here. Better to beat something that isn't alive than is.

"Attention," Xavier called over the intercom, and we straightened. I could see everyone out of the corners of my eyes: standing proud, unwavering. They truly believed that this was for the best.

Of course, this called to mind my own doubts. Did I really think we could beat this... invisible enemy we continued to search for?

Is this what I wanted? To be a freedom fighter? I didn't have any doubts that our secret was going to come out eventually, but was I ready? Could I handle the fallout? Could Grace?

My lack of answers disturbed me.

"Magneto has been quiet as of late," Xavier continued. "And I thought today would be a day to test how well you would fare against him. Work as a team. Scott is leading." Gag. I rolled my eyes. "Loki is second in command. Good luck."

My eyes must've about bulged out of my head. Before I could go questioning the man's obvious lack of brains (come on! What kind of guy puts me in a position of command?!) the room wavered and replaced itself with a mountainous region, with rocks jutting up and scraping the orange sky. Magneto hovered just at the horizon, the picture of peace... until he shot towards us with sick glee written all over his face.

We spent the better part of an hour running around, trying not to get hit. Magneto didn't have actual bullets (as if the real one would), so he threw metal-laced rocks at us, and after one clipped my knee and twisted it funny, I was pretty much down for the count. The rest of the team was as well. So we huddled behind a patch of boulders and tried to come to a decision.

"Any ideas?" I said sarcastically. There was a heavy thump and the rocks sheltering us trembled; the simulation-Magneto was chucking things at us. Makes you really wonder why we did this at all.

"Scott," Xavier boomed, "if you are not going to take command, then relinquish it!"

I glanced up at the office, a strange expression twisting my features. Since when did he start talking like that? So of course my wonderful brain came up with an appropriate answer: _since we stopped being able to take on a computer. That's when. _

"Fine. Spread out and surround him. On my mark, attack. Loki, stay behind and watch our backs. Try and take out his defense." Scott nodded; everyone took a deep breath and snuck out around us. I was flicking my wrists left and right, knocking Magneto's projectiles out as fast as he was picking up the pieces and using them instead. But I gritted my teeth and soldiered on; nothing left to do but listen.

I peered over the top of the boulder, watching with wide eyes as Scott's beams were dodged, Jean's projectiles smashed head on, and the various other efforts of our motley group rebuffed with little effort. I was beginning to debate the merits of exposing myself and earning an excuse for our failure when the simulation fizzled and ended. We let out a collective sigh of relief and limped over to where Xavier was waiting.

It didn't take long for Scott to get up in arms.

"Why'd you end it, sir?" he said tightly, crossing his arms over his chest. Xavier said nothing, just rolled up and down the line of mutants, as if gauging our failures.

"You're obviously not ready to face Magneto," Xavier said finally. "I had hoped you had advanced enough in your abilities to do so, but I should not have tested you so early..."

"We are ready!" Scott protested. "It's alright. Give us another go."

"Um," I ventured, "I dunno about you, but I can't exactly walk." I pointed to my leg, which I was heavily favoring, obviously swollen under the spandex pants. "So if you're going for another round, leave me out."

Xavier took that as his cue to round on me. "You should have helped more, Loki. Your laziness is no longer going to be an excuse. Unless you can prove you are going to do something, then perhaps you shouldn't be in a position of command at all."

"That's perfectly fine with me," I shot back. "I never wanted to be one anyway."

"I have decided," Xavier said, rolling away, completely ignoring my comment, "that alone, we can not hope to defeat Magneto. So I would like you to welcome your new teammates: The Brotherhood!"

My mouth dropped open. He can't be serious. He can't! But moments later, I saw the unmistakable forms of the Blob and Lance striding towards us. Every one of them had arrogant smirks on their face save for Wanda. She looked calm, and... kind of nervous. But something must've crossed her mind, because her face hardened and she fell into an easy slouch.

"If this is what we're stooping too," Scott finally burst out, staring at the other group of mutants with undisguised fury, "then count me out." He took one step, then two, and eventually he was stomping out the doors, leaving us alone.

Well, shit. I didn't even get to pick his brain.

I felt strangely guilty that my first thought pertained more towards what I wanted to do and less with what the circumstances were. But I'd learned that particular lesson quickly: change didn't happen. Once something was done, it was done. That was the end of it. I'd had enough experience with shit like that to know the end result.

"Now that we've reacquainted ourselves," Xavier practically purred, his smile stretching across his face (since when does he smile? Or talk like that, for that matter? Creepy...) "I suppose we should run another few simulations to coordinate our fighting styles."

Jean and I traded helpless glances. Aside from Kurt, we three were the oldest here. To have one of us suddenly walk out was hard. I mean, it wasn't like I did a whole lot, but still. I was there, right?

Well, we didn't have long to wonder about what the fuck was going on, because Xavier split fast and left us to our programs. In fact, I have a sneaking suspicion he made computer-Magneto even crazier than the real one. He was hovering over our heads, yanking the ground apart (because the terrain just happened to be laced with metal, thank you crazy Professor) and tossing us around like jumping beans on crack.

I ended up behind another large boulder, hands around my ears, my injured knee throbbing in time with my machine gun heartbeat. I thought I was magnet-food for the millionth time that day but the body next to me was slim and feminine, balancing on the balls of her feet and peering around to see if the coast was clear.

"So, Loki."

"Wanda," I said frigidly. "Have an idea about what's going on?"

She snorted in a distinctly un-ladylike manner and rolled her eyes. "As if. Has your leader gone completely nuts or something?"

"I dunno." I winced as dust showered onto my hair, staining the white a dirty brown. "I'm worried. He's never acted like this before. And Scott's gone AWOL." I bit back a gasp of pain as a chunk of rock bounced off my knee.

"Hold still," Wanda muttered gruffly and held out her hands, glowing an irritable red. I drew back, clutching the injured limb as if it were a life raft.

"No no no! You'd end up tearing my leg off!" I cried indignantly.

She leveled a flat glare in my direction. We stared at each other for a long moment, the world falling to pieces around us. Finally I relented. "Bitch," I mumbled under my breath. Wanda promptly socked me in the arm.

Ignoring my copious amounts of moaning, she held her hand and concentrated, the glow seeping from her hands into my leg. The pain ebbed; reduced to a mild ache.

"I thought you were chaos," I said quietly.

"Chaos isn't always destruction," she whispered, then smiled. It was a soft smile, too soon replaced with a wordless snarl. I guessed she was remembering something pertaining to the bastard we were currently attempting to do simulated battle with. I patted her once on the shoulder, startling her out of her thoughts, and took off at a sedate pace, ducking behind anything available.

Including other people, of course.

Speaking of which...

"Get off!" Lance shouted, his comical training outfit askew. At least that ridiculous fruit bowl thing was. I ducked just in time for Lance to take the blow aimed for me; he went down in a shower of pebbles and trembles. I had to swallow the snickers that threatened to escape as I looked at his unconscious form. Some people got knocked out gracefully. Others... did not. Lance was not one of the former.

I snuck over even farther, to where Jean was hiding. She was squinting at Magneto, throwing large rocks at him, which he would bat away effortlessly. Her flaming hair was matted with sweat and grime, her face pinched. Definitely more stressed than I'd thought. Of course, she and Scott were practically married, so it made sense that his abrupt departure threw her off her A-game.

"Jean!" I hissed.

She jumped, narrowly missing me with her next shot. "Sorry," she murmured. "How's your leg?"

"What's going on with the Prof?" I asked her in a low voice. "Oh, and it's fine. Wanda fixed it right up," I added.

"I dunno. He had me go into Cerebro today," Jean answered. "I totally freaked out and he blew up at me. Think he's having a rough day or what?" She wrinkled her nose up at the mention of Wanda. "Never mind," she groaned. "With you, it's better not to ask."

I tactfully ignored the comment previous. She just didn't understand. ...wow, that made me sound like such a girl. "Maybe he's on his man period," I growled to myself. "Or not," I amended at her stern look. "What was he looking for?"

"Magneto." She gave me a strange look. "Why couldn't he do it himself?"

I shrugged. "Probably wants you to get some practice. You are the only other telepath in the house."

She nodded, understanding my line of thought.

Of course, that couldn't be said for the rest of the 'X-Men'. Not only did Kitty and Evan ignore me completely (granted, they were keeping an eye on the Brotherhood and fighting the insane program, but couldn't they have made an effort to pay attention?) Kurt simply said something to me in German and kept right on going. So with Jean the only other one on my side (and possibly Wanda) I prepared to make my move.

My plans, as plans laid by mice and men are oft to do, went awry. I had intended to make a stand, demanding to know what was going on with the Professor, but as I was about to do so, he shut the DR down and called us all out.

"It's time," he said, and a feeling of dread crept into my stomach, a concentrated burst of what I had been feeling all day. This wasn't going to be good. I clenched my jaw so tightly the muscles in my face began to burn.

"We are going to face Magneto and take him down. It is not fair that mutants should have to pay for his terrorism!" The Brotherhood gave a lackluster cheer, but our group remained silent as the grave.

Hope that's just a saying and not a prediction.

Xavier made some more comments about how righteous we were, doing what he had planned, taking the Magnet-head down. Of course, he managed to dress it up enough that I didn't even realize what he meant until I was on the ramp of the Blackbird.

God, he wanted to kill Magneto.

What the fuck?

I hardly had time to process what was going on, it moved so fast. One second, we were in the DR, getting our asses handed to us on a silver platter, the next, we're strapped in, Xavier and Miss Ororo being the last to board. Sitting close to the door, I was privy to the last bit of their argument.

"...wait for him! He's the leader, vital to the team! Charles, I don't know what's come over you..."

"...no time for Scott. He'll have to stay behind. Now, come."

He rolled in, looking stately, Miss Ororo following behind, a scowl uncharacteristically lodged on her face. This couldn't be good.

They were sending us into the lion's den. We sure as hell weren't ready to face what was certainly waiting for us. Damn, if anything, I'd say we were just being used. Cannon fodder with legs, right?

"Everyone strapped in?" Miss Ororo called. "We're taking off."

We lurched back in our seats, the forces keeping us in that position as we blasted off for a destination unknown.

What we found there...

Well. I'm sure nothing would be quite the same after whatever was going to happen happened.

Fate again, I suppose. Her fault I got in this mess in the first place. Though I'd stopped thinking like that a long time ago, leaning more towards the general 'My life sucks' line of thought.

I heaved a heavy sigh.

This wasn't going to end well. I could feel it.

* * *

**A/N:** Been a while, no? Part one of the second season finale. Can't say when I'll update next. Plenty of other things on my to-do list. ^^;; Sorry. I can't help but notice that my hits are taking a dive. That's okay, I understand. I love my character to bits; he's interesting to me, but not to you. It's alright, I forgive you. This time. Remember: I don't own anyone but Loki and Co., thanks for all your support, and leave a review! Peace!


	30. Shock and Surprise

It was very quiet.

Granted, of course, we're flying above downtown Bayville (incidentally, it's not as small as I'd first thought - who knew?) in an enormous and quite illegal jet, preparing for... something we didn't even know, scared shitless by Xavier's craziness and the fact our sworn enemies were not ten feet away, strapped in next to us.

Can someone get me a nice, quiet, private padded cell? It's looking nicer as every day goes by.

"We're going to scout the warehouses first," Xavier announced. I was busy debating whether or not to jump out the window - not entirely possible, and yet not an option I was discounting as of yet - when he spoke, and I jumped.

"Of course," I muttered quietly. Next to me, Jean was playing nervously with a strand of her hair, which had only grown longer in the year or so I'd been here. I glanced over at her and she met my eyes.

"Something's not right." She sighed heavily. "Charles would never leave without Scott. And he'd never put us together with..." Jean glanced quickly to her right, where Toad sat, cross-legged, pulling on his tongue to see how far it would stretch. There was a lovely pile of drool staining the leather seat.

"I know." I tucked my chin to my chest and ran a hand up and down my opposite arm. This was too serious to joke about.

Although I do know a really good one about Canada and how it was named, Grace told me it, I was laughing so hard...

Sorry, I'll get back on track. Anyways, suspicion thickened the air (I can even be poetic!) and it was almost a relief to touch down. I had unbuckled myself and was waiting impatiently at the ramp, watching its slow decent, before anyone else had even begun to move.

"Alright," Xavier said, Storm hovering silently at his shoulder. "Magneto's somewhere around here, according to Cerebro."

Didn't Jean say he didn't use it last time?

"We're going to scout around. Move in pairs, one Brotherhood, one X-Man."

Jesus fucking Christ, is he asking me to murder someone?!

"Good luck."

I bolted out as soon as possible, ditching whichever partner I'd been assigned to in favor of going alone. Thank goodness. Could anyone imagine what would have happened if Lance had been with me?

I'd've killed him. Nice and simple like that. Plenty of places to hide the body, too, that's a plus.

First thing I noticed was there were a lot of boxes. Big, brown, wooden boxes, stacked up everywhere, against the walls, leaning haphazardly in ramshackle piles... you name it, it was here. I knocked my watch against one of them as I passed, feeling the tingle as my ears hit my skull. I irritably changed myself back.

Better to be known as the freak from the hospital than that one kid from school.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I spun around, hands aloft, chest pumping. When Wanda scoffed at me, I huffed and lowered them, scowling.

"Can't you go harass someone else?" I snapped.

"Would you rather I go with that bubble-head Kitty or her errant boyfriend-hopeful Kurt?" she replied snidely. Seeing her point (from the opposite side, mind you) I relaxed minutely. We continued on in relative silence.

This was so weird. I mean, we've done work with the Brotherhood before - that stupid camp - but not like this. And I know Xavier's all for that whole 'join hands and sing songs and hope for the best of humanity to come' shit, but... damn, I don't even know what to say.

"Why're we even here?" I said to myself, not expecting an answer.

Wanda lifted one eyebrow. "You don't even have a briefing before missions?" Disdain colored her tone.

And here I thought this would be less than torture.

"Well, we don't do 'missions', for one thing. We have training and we get stuck in unfortunate situations, really." I smiled, but it was cold.

"The other white-haired one-" Storm, I thought, Miss Ororo "-mentioned the experiment was kidnapped." She snorted delicately. The experiment? Who the hell was that? "Anyway, they tracked his signal and found him here." Oh... Logan. Wolverine. Of course.

I'm so spaced out today. Jeez.

"Thanks for the information," I said blandly. "If you don't mind, I'm going to go look for our missing _teacher_-" I stressed the word, because I knew exactly how much it sucked to be poked and prodded "-under this box." I stepped away from her.

It exploded.

Of course.

I was thrown back into the opposite wall, my travels halted by - you guessed it - more boxes. They disintegrated beneath me, nothing more than wet tissue paper to my inertia- and gravity-bound body. Groaning, feeling the blood dripping down my face, I forced myself to my feet.

"Well, look what we've got 'ere," a thickly accented voice piped up, punctuated with a throaty chuckle. "Ah'm surprised. Wanda don't normally let anyone come near 'er wit' a ten foot pole."

I blinked groggily. My vision was streaked with bright spots. Lucky me, I knocked up my noggin yet again. Whoever was talking hopped off the boxes - brown trench coat, some kind of staff and weird metal shin guards, and was that a deck of cards in one hand? - and strode over, holding out one hand. I didn't take it, instead levering myself out with a swallowed moan of pain.

Boxes hurt. Surprisingly.

"C'mon, now," the man said playfully, though I could tell he was probably joking, "just 'cuz Ah blasted ya inta anotha week don't mean we can't be friends, right?" I spat out a globule of blood and glared.

Ooh, spooky eyes. Big fucking deal.

"Yeah," I snarled sarcastically. "Right. Let me invite you over for a sleepover and we'll share stories about the girls we've kissed and go kill puppies. Wonderful." I pulled a walkie-talkie from my belt and flicked it on, but before I had the chance to speak into it, the guy was in my face - towering over me, even in my tallness, though I was kind of bent over in pain - with one finger on it.

It exploded too.

Knocked back on my ass, one hand clamped on the side of my face that had taken the brunt of the explosion - it burned something fierce, though the damage was light, I was sure - I glared up at him.

"Who the hell are you?"

He gave me a cocky half-grin and was about to answer when everything went to hell in a handbasket.

Firstly, all the warehouses began to move. I didn't think they could do that, but splinters flying past my head and the iron structure that danced above proved me wrong, quite spectacularly, too.

Secondly, people began flooding the entire area. My mysterious accented attacker with freaky eyes had disappeared, and when I whirled around, dodging the bits of warehouse in the air, I saw a lot of unfamiliar and familiar faces. A walking tin can, someone dressed in orange with what looked like a flamethrower, mystery attacker - that's where he went! - and... of course.

Sabertooth.

As if today couldn't get any worse.

And finally, my hands began aching. Confused, I stared down at them, flexing, wincing as the burn intensified and I was dragged across the alley - how, I had no idea - into the thick of things. I stumbled to a halt, dodging another exploding card, trying to stay out of the cat's line of sight, and lifted my hand to start doing my part.

I raised my hand, ready to slash it down - my preferred method of attack - and brought it down, but it was yanked again and the blade came very close to decapitating Jean, who was valiantly flinging debris at the four attackers. She ducked, glaring at me.

"Watch it!" she shouted.

"But I-" The burn flared again and I was jerked along until I was practically face-to-face with Sabertooth.

Incidentally, he didn't look very pleased.

"I'm going to enjoy making you bleed," he growled under his breath.

I just about pissed myself. Here, in front of me, the object of my earliest nightmares, growling and reaching at me with claws and teeth bared.

Fighting my first urge - scream - I turned and tried to bolt, but my hands refused to move and I almost dislocated both my shoulders. Ducking the first strike, I almost bit through my tongue as I realized what was wrong.

The metal in my hands. Magneto was around here somewhere, and he wasn't letting me leave.

Of course, I couldn't attack either. So I was officially screwed. Doubly screwed, in fact.

Well, shit.

Sabertooth seemed to notice that I couldn't exactly move... or fight back... and he took full advantage, kneeing me in the stomach and clawing me once across the face. Blood streaked my vision and I struggled to draw in a breath. I bent double, wheezing, my hands remaining pinned behind me, making it worse.

Sabertooth grabbed my chin, yanking my head up and bringing it close to his face. His rancid breath washed over me. I winced.

"Just a little bug," he snarled, grinning his cat-grin and laughing in that strange coughing way. "A little bug, pinned to a board, squirming. Does the little bug want to fly away?"

Well, that was a stupid question. I couldn't fly. So I spat in his face.

He slapped me. I kind of deserved it.

"Too bad the little bug's gonna get his wings ripped off." Smiling darkly, he pressed his claws into my shoulders, digging just deep enough where he could feel the skin begin to break, but not enough to really hurt. Not yet.

"What... did I do... to piss you off... so bad?" I groaned, punctuating the question with coughs of pain.

"You exist," Sabertooth rumbled. "Do I need another reason?" He stabbed me a little harder and I let out a howl, writhing in my frozen position as the world crumbled around me. Battles were going on, but I was otherwise occupied.

Obviously.

I could feel his nails shredding the fine muscles of my shoulder, seeking the gap in the ball-and-socket joint so he could just yank them out easily. I was holding back tears, biting into my lip, my white hair stained with dust and my blood, eyes darting back and forth, when salvation arrived in the form of a blue and Southern blur.

Beast - and Rogue, who'd tapped the aforementioned mutant and was covered in a dusting of blue hair - tackled Sabertooth to the ground, wrenching his talons from me (I screamed again) and pinning him to the ground. He bucked once, throwing them off, and punched Beast into a building, where the doctor slumped, unconscious. Rogue took advantage of his moment to gloat and slammed his head into the ground.

My hands, rebels, fell from the mid-air position they'd been held in and locked themselves at my sides.

Mind hazed with pain, the first thing I coherently thought of blurted out. "Just like in the DR with those damn blobs." I snickered. Luckily I'd learned how to blow the winds out - mind, they weren't anywhere near as powerful, but it worked. Kind of.

Not really.

I sank to my knees, head lolling. I was so tired. Would it be so bad if I just walked away and went to sleep? It sounded so nice.

I'm not a sappy person. Most of the time. But I could distantly see that I was falling into shock and that if I went to sleep now, I probably wouldn't wake up again. So I forced myself to think of a damn good reason to come back. I searched through muddled memories until something rang true.

Chocolate brown eyes. Rumpled, curly hair. A pleasant laugh.

Grace.

I grunted, staggering, pushing myself to my feet. I couldn't fight well, but I could fight. I wasn't going to die. Not yet, damn it.

Gritting my teeth, I found the orange one, snuck up behind him, and put my boot to his back. The tanks dented and he spun around, fury written on his face. He opened his mouth to shout at me and I head-butted him.

It was like someone rang a gong in between my ears, but he went down like a sack of potatoes and I spent a precious second re-gathering my wits, and once I could think straight again I was off to the next one.

Although it seemed everyone else had everything under control. A little tremor lanced through the area, and that told me Lance was definitely up to something, and I peered around. The tin can was missing. Three down.

One to go.

Mysterious Accented Spooky-Eyed Man was not present. I twirled around, fighting the wave of dizziness and nausea that washed over me. Taking a deep breath, lungs prickling, I knelt down to catch my breath.

The ground decided, at that moment, to cease being stable.

I went tumbling away, hands still pinned to my sides, unable to stop myself as something rose from the ground, an ungodly figure of metal glinting in the afternoon sunlight. It straightened; I could faintly see someone in the robot's grasp. The giant hand opened; the figure dropped to the ground, catching on the corner of a mostly-standing warehouse and leaving three deep marks in its wake.

Ah. Logan.

The robot took a shrieking step forward, crushing everything in its path, and I barely registered the first screams of panic from the city (I thought we were farther away, but I guess not... that'll be fun trying to cover up) when Jean hauled me to my feet and gave me an insistent shove in its wake.

"We've got to stop it before it gets to the city and starts hurting people," she said by way of an explanation.

"I can't help," I croaked, nodding to my arms. "The metal. Magneto's around here. I'm sorry."

And I was, surprisingly. Stupid X-Men, giving me a goddamn conscience.

"It doesn't matter," Jean said, giving me another push forward. "We need all the help we can get. That thing's too big for any of us." There was fear in her eyes; real fear. This wasn't a simulation, something we could shut off if it got ugly.

This was the real world.

My resolve firmed and I nodded shortly, taking off at a loping walk-jog, trying to make up the distance the thing covered without an attack. It took a few minutes, but we'd hit the city and now the shit was hitting the fan.

I inhaled deeply, seeking that place inside that was where my power was. I saw it as a pulsing silver sphere, shrouded and hazy. Those'd be the blocks I put, then. I didn't worry about those, I was more interested in getting what I wanted.

I dug my heels in, staring at the leg of the robot, and exhaled sharply, pursing my lips. Silver wind blasted out, tearing into the metal, exposing wiring and circuitry that smoked and sparked angrily.

All around me mutants fought. For once, Brotherhood and X-Men fought together, without being forced. Kitty was jumping through anything available while Lance held it still with his earthquakes. The Blob launched a car at it, Jean adding a little extra umph to it with her telekinesis. I didn't see Wanda, though, or Speedy.

No time to think.

The next few moments were a blur: the screech of metal warping, of powers going off. People shouting. A helicopter buzzed in my ears, as if it were right behind me. I was blowing out little gusts of sharp winds as much as I could without hyperventilating, and I ended up sawing half an arm off. It was wreaking havoc, spitting green goo everywhere.

The Blob was first, caught in it. He froze, mouth wide. It was almost comical, his expression. Spyke was next, a scowl twisting his face. I almost got hit, but I dived out of the way just in time, and Kitty and Rogue caught the blast instead. Kitty phased out; and by that time, I was too busy trying not to get hit to notice if Rogue got out or not.

Kurt disappeared, and when a muted boom sounded from the region of the robot's head, I figured he had something to do with it. Of course, we'd been gathering quite the spectators, and I swallowed.

There was no way in hell this was going to end anything resembling well.

More helicopters had arrived. I could barely read the sides, but it said something about the Marines.

I chuckled, dodging a falling concrete chunk, blown out from where the staggering robot had gouged into a building in effort to stand straight again. Of course, it seemed to get distracted for a brief moment and then began lumbering off with even more intensity. If a walking death machine could be said to have intensity, though.

My hands sprung from my sides. I eyed them, curling them into fists, and felt detached gratification I could do so. That obviously meant something, right? He was distracted, duh.

Now fully able to help, I began cutting away at the killer robot, chunks of the metal exterior falling off like machine dandruff. One bit bounced off my watch, switching my face, and I ignored it for a moment before deciding it just wasn't worth it anymore.

Perhaps if I'd changed it back right away it would have been better.

But that's getting ahead. The robot didn't seem to notice how much damage it was suffering at the moment and reached out one hand... just in time to catch the business end of two missiles. Now a smoking heap instead of a torso, it swayed slightly, toppling forward.

Silence.

I dropped to my knees, breathing heavily.

This... is this what Wanda had been talking about? 'He's planning something. Something big.' Her words. What the hell was this supposed to accomplish? Destroy half the city, sure. But Magneto could've done that in his sleep. Hell, he could've ripped the pacemakers out of the big dogs and watched the city drown in its own blood.

But this? This made no sense.

I looked up just in time to catch the logo on one of the non-marine helicopters.

Horror froze on my face. I almost threw up.

It was a news station. And, even down here, I could see the camera pointed directly at me.

Me, with my human face on. Me, who'd just been the freak the police wanted not ten minutes ago.

Oh my God.

I was still in shock when Jean dragged me to the jet, waiting, not even trying to remain inconspicuous. Xavier was at the helm.

The ride passed in a smear of color and sound. Black: the jet. Red: Jean's hair. Pale flesh: stricken faces. Talking, shouting, groans of pain.

We apparently made great time back to the mansion. But the mansion was gone. In its place was a smoldering ruin, smoke drifting up in lazy coils. Xavier set us down and we staggered out, dirty, defeated, and exposed.

Scott was waiting, pacing, clothing ripped and sooty. The New Mutants stood behind him, clustered together, fearful.

As soon as we hit the ground he stalked forward, grabbing the Professor by the front of his shirt, dragging him out of the wheelchair. I stood, frozen, as Jean and Kurt and others I couldn't recognize - unfamiliar faces, the camera glinting, Grace, a whirlwind of images - leaped forward.

"This is your fault," Scott growled, shaking the bald man, and I waited. Xavier wouldn't take that. He'd start spouting off a lecture of respect or other such bullshit. It's his thing, I guess.

"I suppose it is." Xavier melted, twisting, skin darkening and standing straight. Mystique smirked at Scott, and we stood there, a group of mutants in probably the worst fucking situation we'd ever been in and would likely ever be in again.

Something warm slid down my face and I wiped it away.

I was crying. I blinked. I hadn't cried in... I dunno. Everything just seemed so... inconsequential right now.

The time for no secrets was upon us.

And I could honestly say that I would rather have had my arm cut off than try and do this.

There was no way this was going to end well.

* * *

**A/N:** That was fast. Though I couldn't just give you part one without part two, now could I? ;3 You know the drill: I do not own anyone except Loki and Grace. Thanks to those who've reviewed or favorite'd or alert'd or whatever. Leave a review if you liked or didn't. Doesn't this make you wonder how life will be at school for the pair? I'm so looking forward to writing those. ^^ See you soon, peace!


	31. Rescue Mission? What Rescue Mission?

Mystique.

It was Mystique. Not Xavier, never Xavier. How could we have missed it? He never would have done this to us. Put us in a situation like this before we were ready, force us to work with people we very obviously had a problem with.

For some reason, I found that hilarious.

In the tense silence of our meeting, laughter was rolling around, hysteric chuckling that sounded more like the dying gasps of some wounded animal than what it normally did. It took longer than it should have for me to connect the sound I heard coming from my mouth, and even longer to stop. I was kneeling down, clutching my stomach, laughing, and only when I couldn't breathe did I manage to halt the strange noise.

"What's so funny?" Scott almost yelled. "Don't you know what she did? She set the mansion to self-destruct! She's the reason we don't have a home anymore!"

"I know," I gasped, tears still falling down my face. "But- You don't understand. Instead of going and impersonating someone important, doing something to make money or planning to assassinate a politician, she's screwing with a bunch of _teenagers_!" That started the whole thing up again.

Mystique was looking at me like I'd grown a second head. Come to think of it, everyone was, really. 'Oh, Loki's crazy, it's okay. No, wait, he's really snapped this time. Better hook him up on the nice drugs and give him the comfiest cell, he's gonna be there a while.' Yeah.

"So?" she said silkily, propping her hands on her hips. "I did what I did. Tough luck." She frowned, eyebrows creasing, and whirled around to face Jean, who was concentrating intently on the insides of her eyelids. "Don't think about reading my mind," Mystique snarled. "It's protected."

Jean jerked back with a gasp and shook her head. "It's like there's some kind of barrier," she murmured to Scott.

He didn't take it well.

Leaping over and shoving her back, he shouted, "Tell us where Xavier is, now!"

Mystique just shook her head, snapping her fingers. Instantly, the Brotherhood was at her back. Where the hell did they come from?

Right. When a mommy and a daddy get drunk enough...

"If you every want your precious Xavier back," she hissed, "you will leave me alone. I _may_ tell you, if you grovel enough."

I opened my mouth to interject some smart-ass comment, but the wailing of sirens shattered the moment. I turned sharply around, squinting. "Cops!"

They were everywhere. And not just the regular cars, either, but tanks and helicopters and those huge helicopters on steroids the big guns use. They were all converging on one point: the smoking hulk of our former home.

Which we were standing right in front of.

"Scatter!" Scott called. Every mutant, X-Man or Brotherhood alike, bolted. It was chaos. I ducked down low and took off straight for the copse of trees that lined the borders of the lawn, wincing as the ache of my adrenaline-fueled muscles flared and made their complaints known. My steady jog slowed to a limping walk and I was panting harshly.

A squad car screeched to a halt ten feet from me, cops pouring out and situating themselves behind it for protection.

"Freeze!"

I snorted. "I am definitely not in the mood to play cops and robbers. How about this: get the fuck out of my way and I won't destroy your car. Sound good?"

It's pretty obvious I was not in a happy place at the time. But did they listen? Of course not. Listening requires a brain, which they obviously didn't have. Obviously.

I lifted my hands and slashed them downwards, forming an X with my winds. The silver bit deeply into the car, rupturing the gas tank and causing the entire thing to become doused in fuel. Feeling vindictive, I flicked one finger to a panel lying innocently in the gas. My wind bounced, sparking, and the liquid lit ablaze, consuming the trail and making the entire car go up in flames.

I smirked at the sooty and wide-eyed cops.

"This is why you should listen," I growled.

As I limped past them into the woods itself, a bang sounded behind me and one of the tree trunks next to my ear tore itself apart.

They were using real bullets.

I sped up, keeping low, flinching every time another bullet whizzed past my head. The sounds of destruction filtered in, of shouts and explosions and rushing winds and more bullets being fired.

My legs shook and I took another staggering step, falling to the ground. Everything hurt. I was sick and tired of running, of fighting. This... god, is this what it was going to be like all the time?

My vision blurred as I considered that thought.

Someone laid a gentle hand on my arm. I didn't have the strength to knock it away, so I curled into a tighter ball, in case it was another cop or Marine or fucking Pippi Longstocking come to cut my throat.

"Loki," a quiet voice murmured. "Please, get up. We're meeting at Lookout Point."

"I can't."

There was a brief pause, and then a chuckle. "Oh? Who's so stubborn he refused to eat with us for three weeks after that incident on the asteroid, even after we locked his door and banned him from the rec room?"

I sighed. "Me." Groaning, muscles seizing, I forced myself up and cracked open my eyes to behold this wonderful person. It was Miss Ororo, thankfully. She smiled softly and slung one of my arms around her shoulders, gazing at me curiously as I let out a low groan.

"We're going to see about getting everyone cleaned up at the cave," she said. Slowly, painstakingly, we stood, and she gently lifted us off the ground so we were skimming just above the treetops.

We made great time to Lookout Point.

I didn't find it the least bit suspicious that the place is famous for being the perfect spot for a good make-out session or two and that the first people we spotted were Jean and Scott. Alone.

Was I trying to say something?

Naw.

We touched down, Miss Ororo forcing me to lay down as she rushed back to get the first aid kit. Though, the way I saw it, it wouldn't have had any of Dr. McCoy's treated gauze, which is the only thing aside from my uniform itself that can not get eaten away by my blood.

"Loki." Scott nodded once. "You're on the news."

I sighed. "Can I see?"

He hesitated, but brought out the little mini-t.v. and readjusted the antennae. It was a little fuzzy, but I could see the picture. It was a news feed, cycling between all of the fighting X-Men and me. The favorite clip seemed to be the white-haired back of my head, me jerking back, and then a slowed-down picture of the inducer's image stealing over my body, changing my hair to a dark, dank blond. The t.v.-Loki turned, a ferocious expression on his face, hazel eyes narrowed, and then his expression turned to one of horror.

Guess I showed a lot more on my face than I thought. Miss Ororo had come back sometime while I was listening to the bullshit the newscaster was spooning the public (neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend... what are we in, a soap opera?) and was peeling off the leather of my uniform.

Lots of chattering voices swelled behind me. I guess we weren't as alone as I had previously believed. Everyone was there, Kurt, Kitty, even a few New Mutants, though they looked extremely nervous.

Probably not used to coming in close contact with the actual X-Men. Kids.

Storm doused my wounds in rubbing alcohol (which, actually, still hurts - sucks to be me) and wrapped my wounds. All around my shoulders and head, and they didn't dissolve, which I counted as a really good thing. Even if I couldn't move because I was mostly mummified.

Eh. The sacrifices we make.

After patiently listening to one of the New Mutants explain in vapid tones of worship how Jean had managed to get away with a flying police car (and they call me conspicuous - honestly) we managed to gather the entire group for a meeting on what the hell we were gonna do next.

Scott caught my eye and jerked his head, gesturing for me to get up there with him and Jean. Of course, we three were the oldest in the whole bunch, so I guess it made sense... even if I could hardly move and no one respected me. Oh well. I stood, staggering over and coming to a grinding halt at Scott's left shoulder. Miss Ororo was content to see if we could handle this... so we probably were going to crash and burn with the whole reassurance thing.

"We're obviously in a bit of a situation," he began, and I rolled my eyes. He's trying to downplay this entire thing? Like hell.

"Listen up," I interrupted. "We're in deep shit. The world knows we exist and they are pissed. So what're we gonna do next? Any ideas? Anyone?"

Scott twisted his torso around to meet my eyes behind his sunglasses. "The last thing we need is you undermining my authority," he hissed, his mouth barely moving.

"The last thing they need is you pretending this is just a little accident," I whispered back furiously. "Nothing's gonna be the same if we ever fix this. No use sugarcoating it."

He opened his mouth to reply, found he didn't have a prepared argument for that particular statement, closed it with a snap, and turned away, sighing. He rubbed at his temples, thinking.

"Loki's right," he admitted grudgingly. "We've got a lot of problems we're facing right now, with the existence of mutants known. The first thing we should do, though, is find the Professor."

There were murmurs of assent throughout the bunch, even from Miss Ororo, who nodded wisely. I get the feeling if we'd suggested anything else first, she'd've piped up and put us right back on track. She's smart like that.

"Shouldn't you be concerned about the rest of your little group?" a sinuous voice called. I didn't even hesitate in whirling around and swinging my arms in an arc, releasing a blade aimed right for her traitorous little head. Bitch.

It missed. Unfortunately. Eyebrows raised, she clicked her tongue and wagged a finger. "Children shouldn't play with sharp things," she admonished, and I let out a growl and was about to stalk over and punch her stupid blue lights out when Miss Ororo magically appeared and put a hand on my shoulder. Releasing a strained breath, I knocked it away.

"What the hell are you here for?" I spat instead.

"Believe it or not," Mystique said airily, tapping her chin thoughtfully, "I was never a part of Magneto's little plan." She rolled her eyes. "As if I'd want to. Can you see the turmoil? The world is baying for our blood. This just proves that mutants and humans will never be able to coexist. But-" She stopped, a smile curving on her lips.

"But what?" Jean snapped. "Either you explain yourself, or get out."

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about some of my poor boys." She smiled even wider. It made her look like a snake eying a particularly fat rat. "I was thinking how some of your perky little teammates just happen to be missing." Mystique settled her hands on her hips. "The only problem is I don't know where to start looking."

"How about up your ass?" I muttered, shooting her a dark look. She ignored me skillfully.

We stared each other down, the mutants from Xavier's place locking their eyes on her. Someone coughed, but no one moved. I almost thought that if it were to happen again, the tension in the cave would choke us all.

"I might be able to help you there." I jumped, holding a hand out, snarling at the noise. From around the corner stepped a man; tall, with an eye-patch of all things. Wait... that face...

"Fury." I tilted my head curiously, lowering my hand. "What're you doing here?" Something occurred to me and I lifted them back up again, ignoring the steady burn in my shoulders. "Not to capture us, I hope."

He chuckled nervously, reaching one hand into his jacket. Everyone - even Mystique - tensed. He could see that we weren't in the best of moods, so he retrieved the object and held it out. Before Miss Ororo could grab it, Mystique snatched it out of his hands. It looked like a floppy disk - how ancient. We're on to CDs now, didn't you get the memo?

"I'm not allowed to get involved," he explained, settling into a military parade rest. "Officially, at least. But I've got my own reasons, so that's a good place to begin. You might be surprised, though." He blinked, though he made the effort to dip his head and turn it into a casual wink. "I can't stay long. Good luck."

He slipped out just as quickly as he'd come. In the next second, Scott was in Mystique's face, and they appeared to be wrestling over the little device. I was more than happy to sit back and watch them tear each other apart, but Mystique managed to plant a foot in his gut and send him to the ground, wheezing.

"I'm in charge of this mission, boy," she spat. "I'm the one who came to you, looking for help."

Miss Ororo knelt down next to Scott, who angrily shoved her away. She didn't say anything at his rudeness, just strode gracefully over to Mystique and shrugged. "If that is how you wish to obtain your leadership, I will not challenge you."

"Good to know the only adult left with us has such a backbone," someone behind me whispered. I just turned and glared.

"Do remember that she's also the only one who knows where the Professor is," I spat. "In which case you don't, then please. Step up and let Mystique kill him while our backs are turned."

The speaker - I couldn't connect the name with the face - paled. He was silent after that.

"I'm sending two of mine to see if Magneto really died," Mystique said, pacing. Scott, Jean, and I were watching her like hawks. Never could be too careful, you know.

"He looked pretty dead to me," Scott said gruffly. "That tends to happen when a giant robot falls on you."

Mystique shot him a severely annoyed look. "With him, you can never be too sure." She peered intently at the floppy disk and pressed something; a light played across her features, painting the blue skin white. Not a floppy disk, then.

She snorted. "I can't believe this."

"So they really are up your ass?" I said politely. She glared at me. I shrugged. "Worth a shot, I suppose."

"They're in Area 51."

We were silent, until I couldn't hold it in any longer. I started laughing again. "Right," I choked out, one hand rising to cover my mouth. "Under lock and key with the aliens, I suppose?"

She punched me. In the jaw.

It hurt.

* * *

"Tell me again why we're actually listening to her?" I whispered.

"We don't have a choice." Scott sounded about as pleased as I looked. And I was about ready to start killing some puppies.

"Oh yeah."

I was kneeling down in the muck, next to Scott, Jean, Kitty, and Bobby, clinging onto a wire fence. Apparently there was, in all actuality, an Area 51. Who'd've thought? Storm was waiting out somewhere in the wild yonder with a van, ready to drive when we came barreling in.

We have such a threatening image. Give us back our missing teammates, or suffer the wrath of being run over in a minivan full of teenage freaks. Yeah. Like that'll scare 'em.

On my belt, the comm crackled. Mystique's voice floated up, giving us the all clear. It was her job to unlock everything and make the guards go night-night. Scott nodded and began moving forward, and I followed. Of course. It's all I'm good for, really.

"Wait," I hissed. I slid around him and nudged the gate open, muscles taut. It wouldn't surprise me if she'd just told us we were in the clear and then left. When there were no screaming alarms going off or insane guys waving guns around, I relaxed. "Guess we're good. For now."

We slipped in, pressing close to the walls of the compound. They were painted a light yellow. I lifted a brow. Such a cheerful color for such a sucky place. Huh.

"Bobby and Kitty - disable the inside alarms. We'll meet up with Mystique and find where they're keeping everyone." Scott was in a mood, I could tell. Here he was, so desperate for approval, looking for the man who'd become a father to him. To all of us, really. But we had other problems, ones Scott didn't want to deal with, but he was just going to have to step up and bite the bullet.

As soon as they were gone, I caught sight of some of the un-captured Brotherhood members, darting glances around. Lance met my eyes and jerked his head in the other direction; I nudged Scott and murmured, "Lance knows where they are."

"Suddenly trustworthy, huh?" he whispered, one corner of his mouth twitching.

"Shut up." I took several long strides across the intersection of the halls, sticking close to the walls. Lance didn't say anything, just waved the rest of our merry band of intruders over.

With Lance in point, we stalked down the halls. Fifteen minutes passed before he stopped and nodded to the metal door. I lifted my hand, fingers splayed, and then flinched as something began shrieking in my ear.

"Mosquito!" Scott forced past clenched teeth.

"What?!"

"It's a noise only kids under a certain age can hear," he hissed. "They know it's us! Ugh!"

That just about summed it up. It felt like someone was taking a pick axe to my forehead. Scott blasted the door with his awesome eye beams, kicking in the wreckage, and we stormed through, most of us still clutching our ears, but at this point, there were soldiers everywhere (looking peachy keen, might I add) and everyone we'd been trying to rescue was already out.

Typical.

You try to do something nice for someone only for them to do it themselves, in half the time and without the bleeding eardrums.

Wolverine took out the ones closest to him, slashing through the gun and knocking him out cold with a fist to the temple. Spyke and Rogue whirled into action, those stupid exercises finally coming in handy. I took the opportunity to knock my elbow into someone's jaw, spinning around to kick him in the stomach while he was stunned.

"Come on!" I shouted.

Scott dropped his bad guy with one last punch and darted out, the rest of us following behind.

So much for a rescue.

There were more soldiers in the hall; they didn't have guns, but some kind of tazer, it looked like. The two prongs crackled with energy.

I'm gonna go and say they wanted prisoners. With that happy thought in mind, I swung my hand out and knocked a few back into the wall, drawing blood from the impact site on their abdomens.

"Lance!" I turned, grimacing, ignoring the kick that numbed my leg and limping a bit out of the way. "Bury them!"

"No, no!" Jean shouted. "Don't hurt them!"

"Don't hurt them?!" I snapped, wincing as the mosquito thing suddenly got louder. "Look at what they're doing! Why not?!"

"Just don't!"

Too late. Lance had stilled, one hand aloft, eyes rolled back in his head. The ceiling began to tremble, dust raining down, and it began to crumble like a soggy cookie. Chunks the size of the van spilled from above, and I could imagine the expressions on their faces, fear twisting their features. They would have been pancakes if not for Jean, who held out her own hand.

The rocks, previously on a collision course, halted. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she pulled them forward, setting them down and releasing a heavy breath.

"You could have killed them," Jean whispered to Lance harshly. He paled, Adam's apple bobbing, and shrugged.

"Just following orders?" he offered weakly.

"You know, that's what the Nazis said," I said with a smile. "And they ended up in prison too."

Unable to think of a response, he turned and followed behind Mystique, who was in turn following behind Kitty and Bobby. The pair seemed to have a destination in mind, so I glanced at the remaining members of my team and loped along.

The halls were still filled with that irritating noise, though now there was flashing lights and even louder klaxons for the hearing impaired and the dead. "Shit," I muttered, my chest tightening. Figures the one time I don't have my puffer I have an asthma attack.

Blackness was playing on the edges of my vision as I gasped for oxygen. I was so busy attempting to breathe and stuff (trivial junk, much less important than stopping in the middle of the hall in a facility dead set on capturing a mutant play-toy for no apparent reason) that I missed the warning and a ladder abruptly fell on my head.

Rubbing my injured scalp, wheezing, I watched Scott force Kitty and Kurt up, then Jean and Lance. Once it was all clear, I hauled myself up, shimmying out of the roof hatch with Scott hot on my tail. I was just steadying myself to leap over the edge and make a mad dash for the van when I heard something clang shut and a flurry of curses.

"Where's Xavier?" Scott growled. Mystique slammed her fists against the metal grate.

"I don't know! Let me out!"

I stood at Scott's shoulder, unmoving and silent.

Should I have let her go? Probably. Was I going to? No way in hell.

I'm human. I have flaws. One of which, unfortunately, was holding a grudge. She's dropped me off ledges, tormented me, and just generally been a pain in my ass. Maybe a little time in the government institution would clear her head.

"I don't know!" she repeated, a little more desperately. "Please. I don't have-"

Whatever she didn't have, we weren't gonna find out about; she was abruptly yanked away from the grate and we heard a faint thump filter up. Trading a blank stare with Scott, I didn't waste any time scrambling off the roof and bolting out the front gate. By the time we'd reached the van, I was grasping for anything to release me from the agony of not being able to breathe.

It was horrible. I'd been careful for so long, it was bound to happen, I suppose. It felt like someone had wrapped a boa constrictor around my chest and was squeezing. I clutched at the air, Jean carefully rubbing my back as Miss Ororo drove like the devil was on our asses.

Someone pressed something into my hand and I fumbled with it, peering through blurry eyes to see... salvation in the form of plastic and drugs. I took a lungful, coughed, and then took another.

"Feeling better?"

Hack. Cough. Splutter.

"Take another puff."

I did so. More in that general vein, but this time I could at least nod.

"Good. We're here."

Everyone - and this time I mean everyone - tumbled out of the van. I was bent nearly double, hands on my knees, and I lifted my head just to see the ruined rubble of my home come into focus. Rogue and Evan gaped, stunned.

Oh yeah. They hadn't been around to see the wreck.

"So what... do we do... now?" I panted.

All of the students looked to Miss Ororo and Logan, the two adults. I could feel some eyes on me, too. Why would they be looking to me for leadership? I can't even run from a building to a van without my lungs rebelling.

"We stay," Miss Ororo said simply. "Show them who we are. It's a brave new world, and someone has to meet it." She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "We need to prove we're the good guys... before it's too late."

I slumped over even further. As if we could get any more bad news.

"That'll be fun to do," I muttered.

* * *

**A/N: **0.0 It's been over a year since I've started my unoriginal little project. I didn't even know until a few weeks ago! Wow! So happy birthday, Winds of Change! Yay! On another note, thanks to my two reviewers, much love to you. Espa - I guess that's your opinion, but I like to say hard-to-follow action scenes are just a staple of 1st person p.o.v. Hard to describe things happening when you're the one in the battle. ^^ Regardless, thanks!

I don't own, please leave a comment if you wish, and have a great day!


	32. Actually Being Kind of Useful for Once

"I don't see why I have to stand guard," I muttered to a squirrel. It gave me a beady glare and scampered off. Huffing, I flicked at its tail and was rewarded with a poof of fur and a squeak.

"Serves you right," I griped.

So, as it turns out, there's not a whole lot to do when your house has burned to the ground, you've been outed as public freaks, and the only people who have a semblance of protecting you are out making a grocery run. I'd volunteered (anything to stop this horrid boringness) but they'd politely declined.

Them being Logan, Rogue, and Evan. It was mostly Logan I wanted back here (I get enough eye rolls and sarcastic grunts from myself, thank you very much) because he was the one with the claws.

Essentially, to make a long story short, we'd been camping out in the woods around the mansion for a few days. Scott was planning on moving all the salvageable stuff to Lookout Point, where we'd met Mystique not too long ago and mounted a failure of a rescue. On Area 51. Can't get much weirder than that, honestly.

But it kind of had. Lance almost killed a few people (on my orders, no less) and Scott closed the grate over Mystique, so she can't exactly bother us any longer, probably busy being a mutant pincushion. Sucks for her, no?

I heard a faint call behind me and saw Kitty waving at me from the ledge. Sighing in relief, still keeping one eye peeled for invading assholes, I trudged up the side of the faux-mountain. All I had to my name was a battered and bloody uniform and an inhaler. Oh, such a glorious life I live, the life of a mutant.

"Got everything up?" I asked. She nodded, gesturing behind her.

I eyed the stark surroundings. Brown walls, stretching cavernously over my head. Stalagmites and stalactites were everywhere. I saw a pile of squishy-looking sleeping bags behind one, along with a bag of what appeared to be granola bars. Ew.

"So what's the plan?" I said tiredly. Scott tugged Jean over and they sat down next to me, criss-cross-applesauce.

"Ororo and Dr. McCoy are going to Washington," he said after a moment. He looked bone tired, even worse than me. Of course, I bet his little mutiny weighed heavily on that goody-goody conscience of his. "They're pleading our case in the Senate. There's been a lot of talk that we're going to be charged for the attack on Bayville."

"But we didn't do anything," I pointed out gruffly. "It was just... there."

"Yeah, try telling that to the hundred scared humans who've just found out that people with superpowers exist," Scott snapped, rubbing his temples. Jean nudged him gently with her shoulder, and he sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. It's just - no one knows what to do... without Xavier."

I rolled my eyes. Honestly, the guy's starting to sound like a broken record. I was just about to remind him that yes, he did have a brain and I was also fairly sure he had a pair so why continue trying to borrow Xavier's when the air inside was blasted back, whipping our hair around crazily.

Choppers.

Again.

I bared my teeth, forgetting that my fangs didn't show under the inducer, and raised one hand, ignoring the burn in my shoulder. I was just about to bring it down when Scott yanked it away, sending fresh waves up pain up my arm.

"What the hell?" I shouted over the thrum-thrum of the blades as they hovered just within striking range.

"Don't attack them!" He glanced over to see Logan leaping up the side of the hill, claws extended, face locked in a snarl. "No!"

Logan shot him a disbelieving look and skidded to a halt. His mouth moved, but no one could understand him, so Scott turned back to the interior and called, "Bobby! Ice up the entrance!"

Ah, Bobby. I've got a spot in my heart for him... in which he is roasted over a spit. Not so chilled now, are you? Little bastard. (As I later learned, it was mostly his fault for the alarms going off. I've yet to properly beat him for it.)

He scurried forward, hair plastered to his forehead and clothes torn, raising his arms and letting loose with a massive blast of his powers. The ice formed instantly, thick and shiny with moisture, and Logan just barely managed to slip through before it was completely closed off. Glaring at Scott under my fringe, I switched the electric heater on in my uniform.

"What was that?" Logan accused. "You shoulda let me take 'em down. They're nothin' but trouble!"

"We're not here to fight!" Scott replied heatedly. "We're trying to show them we can be good. That involves _not _destroying everything that comes after us!"

Logan let out a wordless snarl. "Fine," he managed to spit out. "I left the groceries down at the base, behind a tree, granted that a bear hasn't come along and gotten 'em first. Rogue and Evan're on the way." With that, he turned around and stalked out, cutting an enormous chunk out of the ice wall.

Bobby closed it up instantly, not letting the ten or so guys waiting at the hole with guns blazing use Logan's hissy fit as a way to get us at last. According to the dark shapes behind the ice... they weren't pleased.

"So now what?" I growled, gesturing to the ice wall. "We're just gonna stay here until they leave?"

"Yes."

"That's bullshit!" I whirled around, stalking up and down the length of the cave before coming back. And even then, I was so furious I couldn't speak.

What would hiding away accomplish? We're screwed anyway, going out there. They know about us now. Sequestering ourselves in a cave capped in ice (which would melt or get blasted away soon regardless) wasn't going to do anything for us. We needed to get out. Do something.

"Watch your language," Scott said after a moment, but it lacked any of the previous venom it might have held.

"What are you going to do, Scott?" I slumped, leaning against the wall of the cave. "Ground me? Give me double sessions? We don't have a home now. We can't just... stay here forever." I shook my head. "Much as I hate to say it..." I rolled my eyes and pushed off the wall, walking over to Scott, who looked like someone had just kicked his puppy.

"We've gotta show them we're not just freaks, I guess is what I want to say. We're good guys. Like Miss Ororo said."

Looks like living with these idiots has given me some semblance of not only a conscience, but a brain, too. Would the old Loki have ever thought like that, back before all this happened?

Probably not.

"How exactly would you propose doing that?" Scott said quietly. "There's not a whole lot of need for a bunch of teenage superheroes this day and age."

Salvation came from the mouth of our resident popsicle.

"Scott?" Bobby called, in the way of a child about to puke but unwilling to move. "There's something on the t.v. I think you should see."

We traded worried glances and sped over there, kneeling down next to the New Mutants who had clustered around the little screen as if it were the solitary liferaft in the freezing ocean.

They'd turned the channel to the debate between most of the important people in the government and our two representatives. That, however, had been replaced with a news alert. The woman looked harried, and her hair was askew.

Dare I say it...? Why not.

Probably was interrupted in the middle of her afternoon sexing. Pity for her.

"Reports are coming in about a... mutant-" she grimaced as the word crossed her lips, and as one our group tensed "-wreaking havoc at the local dam. Eyewitnesses say he's enormous, over seven feet tall, wearing a red shirt and some kind of dome-like helmet, also red. We go to Jim for the story."

The screen darkened; replaced quickly with a man who looked terrified. Behind him, sections of the dam had been torn out and were spraying water in pressurized gouts.

"We're here at the Bayville Dam, watching as this masked mutant tears off pieces of the concrete with his bare fists. He appears unstoppable. Police efforts have been rebuffed." The reporter clutched the mike with fervor; his knuckles were turning white. "This is as close as we can get without putting our crew in danger."

The camera zoomed in on a red blob, which quickly coalesced into the familiar hulking form of the Juggernaut.

"Shit," I hissed.

"Well," Scott said sardonically, "you got your wish, that's for sure. Looks like no one but us can take him out." He stood; around him, we rose as one, looking to him for the leadership we sought. He seemed... more relaxed. If that was possible. Jean, who had said nothing during our discussion-cum-argument, threaded her fingers through his.

Aww.

Barf.

Instead of going straight to the problem, we were forced to wait for the stalking helicopters to realize that the ice was not naturally melting (not that it could be natural in the first place, given that it had popped up out of freaking nowhere) and fly off. It was well into the evening and as we tunneled through the barrier we found ourselves with another problem.

Transportation.

Beast and Storm had taken the jet to get to D.C. quickly, all the vehicles at the mansion were probably toast, and no one had a spare convertible in the survival kits. The van we'd used to high-tail it out of Area 51 was ditched somewhere. Lucky, lucky us.

That is...

"Let me borrow a phone," I said, holding out my hand to Scott. He didn't hesitate, handing the slim device over. I flipped it open and stabbed the keys, putting it against my ear.

"Hello?"

"Grace, I need your help."

"Loki?!" She spat out a few impressive curse words and started yelling. "What the hell is going on! I've been calling your extension at the mansion for hours! Do you know how much I've been worrying about you?! Your face is everywhere, along with your friends'! What did you do?!"

I winced, holding it away from my ear, Scott smirking. I stuck my tongue out at him and instead interrupted my girlfriend's vicious tirade. "Grace, I need a ride for about ten people."

Dead silence.

"Where are you?"

Something constricted in my chest as I hurriedly explained where we were. She didn't hesitate to give me another earful before reassuring me that she'd be over in ten minutes, speed limits be damned.

What did I ever do to deserve someone like her? She shouldn't have to get caught up in this kind of crap. Yet she willingly risks her safety to help me.

God, I love her so much.

True to her word, ten minutes later Grace roared up, the tires of her enormous gas-guzzler spitting rocks and dirt at us. She rolled down the window, grinning. "Anyone call for a cab?" she joked.

I reached up on my tiptoes and pecked her cheek, sliding across the hood to cut down time and beat Bobby to the front seat. Didn't matter much because I got squished in with Rogue anyways, and once the rest of the gang was packed into the cab like sardines in a tin, she tore off, driving manically.

"So," Grace said conversationally as she swerved to avoid oncoming traffic. "Where are we headed?"

"The dam. You've seen the news, as you've already proven." I still can't hear out of that ear, dammit.

"Yeah, the crazy dude that can't be stopped. How exactly do you know him? And plan to stop him, I guess would be the next obvious question."

I shrugged, making Rogue grunt. "Trashed our mansion once. I think he's related to Xavier somehow. Half brother, I think he said." Eavesdropping: the single most useful invention on the face of the planet.

"That monster, related to puny little Mr. Xavier?" She snorted. "Yeah, whatever." Then she stiffened. My guess is she realized her poor choice of words. I'm used to it; my personal mental beratings get repetitive. And give me tough skin.

"So ya think anyone who looks a little different is a monster?" Rogue snapped. "It's not a wonder we weren't ready to come out yet." Right, because the Juggernaut is only a little different. Yeah, and I'll eat my hair.

"Shut up." I elbowed her, hard. Rogue shot me an acidic glare through her bangs, but did as I asked.

The rest of the ride was spent in extremely tense silence, save for the quiet revving of the engine as it powered on, heedless of its driver's conundrum. It didn't take us much longer than that to get to the dam anyway, and we disembarked. The rest of the group huddled up, preparing a plan. I hung behind, with Grace.

She looked... weary. About as bad as I felt, actually. There were dark circles around her eyes and her fingertips were red and raw, the nail almost gone. She wasn't a biter, but it must have been a hell of a few days.

"Hey." I wrapped my arms around her and just stood there, reveling in the feel of her. So real. So there. So... not going to leave. "No worries, alright? Everything's gonna be fine. We just gotta take him down and then we'll rebuild the mansion and everything will be back to normal. Sort of."

Grace chuckled softly, looking up at me with watery eyes. "Liar. How can it go back to being normal when the world knows your secret?"

"I dunno. But it will. Eventually." I hope.

I had to let go and give her a gentle nudge back to the truck, and watching her drive far enough back that she was out of the immediate danger zone was like taking my arm or leg and moving it just out of the way of a steamroller. Like you know it won't get hurt but the fear is still there, pounding in your brain.

I was so distracted with thoughts of Grace and her safety that I hardly noticed when a giant chunk of mortar and concrete flew past my head. I glanced back, watching my teammates wage battle with the giant. Many Davids to one unstoppable Goliath.

Taking a deep breath, I slid down the steep wall on one side of the dam itself and started firing off bursts of wind, attempting to knock the Juggernaut down, so maybe Jean could hold him above the stone and keep him from killing us all.

Didn't quite work as well. The winds, which started out blunt, simply bounced off his helmet or were absorbed by his skin, reduced to a brief flash of silver sparkles, and when I switched to the sharp, it barely nicked him.

I was down at the bottom with the rest of the crew, swinging my burning arms back and forth, and finally I darted forward and slid under his legs, coming up behind him as he was turning to follow me and undid a latch on his helmet-thing.

It worked last time... of course, last time we had Xavier to make him go sleepy. So no guarantee how well it'd work. Kurt popped just above the Juggernaut's head, undoing another two latches, and I managed to shimmy up his trunk-like legs and reach around to undo the last.

He knocked me twenty feet away with one punch, but the helmet was off. Wheezing, feeling the tender area on my stomach that was sure to bruise, I picked myself out of the rubble in time to see Scott go bonkers.

Aside from our brief tenure on the asteroid, I'd never seen Scott without his visor on, and, by proxy, never seen the power he possessed until that instant, when he ripped it off and let loose a blast that shook the foundations of the unsteady structure.

I came up behind him and held out my hands, swinging them back and forth, adding my power to his, and the Juggernaut continued to move forward, inch by inch, repelling the blasts with only his bare skin. I was too intent to be properly indignant on my behalf.

Was it fair my chest got fried with friendly fire and this idiot wasn't getting a damn mark? Of course not. But you don't hear me complaining, now do you?

The man reached out one hand and clamped it around Scott's head, the red energy cutting off without warning. The distraction I provided (as I like to think, he didn't seem to bat an eyelash at me until a moment later) allowed Kitty to phase through the dam itself and, with Rogue hoisted on her shoulders, the Southern girl managed to yank off a glove and make contact with him just as he turned to me.

His eyes rolled up into his head and still Rogue held on, until he fell to the ground with an earth-shattering boom. I held out one hand, charging my power, waiting for the instant he awoke.

And he did, a second later, staggering to his feet and looking around confusedly. I let the shot go; it blasted out with a concussive boom and sent him hurtling backwards into the surrounding cliffs. He lay there, unconscious, bleeding from the head.

Feeling drained, I flopped to the ground. As I sat there, Bobby froze him into another human popsicle (besides himself, of course) and Rogue tugged him effortlessly from the hole his momentum had created and tossed him away, like he was a flower petal falling into a gentle breeze.

We let out a ragged cheer, all of us, and once we'd gotten back to the top Grace was waiting, along with a contingent of cops. I let my chin drop to my chest.

Naturally. We were ousted now, no more excuses and running away before they got here. They'd just ID us and track us down. It's not like we're not conspicuous or anything. Jean with her hair, Scott with his glasses, Kitty and Evan and me and... well, you get the point. So we stood there, bunched together, trying to decide whether an all-out dash to the truck would be worth it.

"Scott," Rogue muttered. "Ah know where the Professor is."

Visor-less, he couldn't make eye contact with her, but the grin that split his face said enough.

I stepped away from our pack and towards the single police officer approaching us.

"Something wrong, officer?" I said politely.

He gave me a disbelieving stare, looked pointedly at the destruction we'd caused, then shook his head and sighed heavily. "We're here to escort you back to the Institute."

"Oh?"

There was a nervous edge to his stance. Completely understandable. I might have had a human face on, but everyone knew what I really looked like.

"You've been cleared of all charges. Well," he amended, "you and the rest of them." He nodded once, resigned, and held out a hand, inviting us towards the squad cars and the rookie cops fingering their guns.

"That's alright," I said frostily, making him flinch subtly. "We've got our own ride home."

And we did. After Beast and Storm managed to get back, they informed us of the obvious (we weren't being persecuted any more, hoorah) and the not-so-obvious (the maniac responsible for Robot of Death was officially behind bars) and the exciting - Xavier was coming home as they spoke.

Turns out Rogue had borrowed Scott's phone and called their comm frequencies and let them know where he was, which happened to be the same place the Juggernaut had been until not too long ago. Storm and Beast weren't anywhere close, but they could call the guards and get them to let Xavier out. He'd be taking a cab back.

How... undignified.

We stood in front of the ruins of the mansion, morbidly debating on where we would be staying from now on. The upper levels had been destroyed, yeah, but there was plenty of basement space. And the DR. Which was probably why we didn't stay there in the first place. That, and all the cops combing through the ruins. Like flies on rotting meat, they were.

Figures. The whole damn place gets blown to hell and back and the one thing that could have stood being destroyed was one of the only things spared. Life sucks.

The sound of gravel crunching reached our ears and I turned, eying the taxi with disdain. Who knows who could have been in there. Prostitutes, drug addicts...

"Hello, children," Xavier called softly, his voice hoarse. He looked like shit, but he was alive.

Well. Looks like we've won this round.

But no one knows what the future may hold...

* * *

**A/N:** If, when reading this, you find yourself thinking, 'Gosh, this seems awfully familiar,' well, you're right. What had happened was I got two episodes confused with each other and mashed them together, so when I pulled them apart, I used the beginning for Chapter 31 and the rest here. So it's probably nothing you haven't seen before.

As always, reviews are much appreciated! Thanks to those who left behind your comments! I don't own anyone except Loki and Grace! Peace!


	33. Return to Hell, I Mean School

"So... bored..." I sighed heavily. "So... terrifically... bored."

Common sense tells people that, with half your home disintegrated, there would be plenty to do. Cleaning up, gathering usable supplies, anything, especially when you have the most free time out of them all. This, of course, doesn't count on the person being terrifically lazy and just a jerk in general. I was, naturally, talking about myself.

It was just my luck that I couldn't sleep. Damn nightmares. Everyone else got to lay on pilfered mattresses, enjoying the rest. I got to sit around and think.

I sighed again. The tattered remains of my blankets - the black and silver one was just a charred square, while the others were mostly singed but otherwise all right - lay in my lap as I sat at the table. We'd stacked a few sturdy chunks of granite into columns and then slapped on a plywood board. It wasn't Martha Stewart, but it held food.

It was the first honestly good night of sleep anyone would be getting. All the teammates that had been kidnapped were back, and so was Xavier. He was probably the most tired of us all, even though he'd spent the entire ordeal in a tube.

A sound jerked me out of my thoughts and I stood, one hand out and the other on the back of the chair (we'd gone scouting for usable furniture once Xavier had come back, and it just so happened to be one of about four un-torched things left). "Who's there?"

"Huh?" a sleepy voice called back. Kitty staggered in, dressed in her pajamas, rubbing at her eyes.

"Never mind." I sat back down as she hunted down the fridge and cracked it open. I was privately amazed the wiring still was intact enough to get electricity down here for a fridge, but Xavier was just magical that way. Still partially blinded by sleep, she groped for the milk carton and started gulping it down.

"Hey!" I snapped. "You're not the only one who drinks from that, you know."

Kitty glanced blearily at me from under her lashes. "So? I'm thirsty."

"Get a glass."

"Do we even have any left?"

It was a sobering realization. We were so gutted by that damn explosion that we don't even have cups. We are so pathetic. I dropped my head onto the plywood table and groaned. "We suck."

Kitty laughed lightly and leaned on the fridge door. "Yeah, we kinda do." Smiling, she stowed the carton and was about to sit down next to me when my watch began to flash.

I still have no idea as to why my watch and not Kurt's is hooked up to the main computer system. Hell, I'm probably one of the least-responsible, grudge-carrying s.o.b.'s to walk the earth. "Something's up."

I stood, walking quickly to the security cameras. What normally just showed up as grainy images of rubble now showed grainy images of moving blobs. Colorless, moving blobs. We should be terrified, I think, but I settled for pissed.

"I'll take care of them," I muttered. "Go tell Xavier."

Kitty nodded and slid through the wall. I turned and took the stairs three at a time, fighting to keep my breathing even. Once I was out of the basement, I switched on my inducer. Whoever it was didn't deserve a late night scare. Depending on who they were, of course... if it was someone coming to hurt us, then the human face was off.

I crept through the ruins of my home, peering around the chunks of mortar. I saw the backs of three people, and they were... spray painting? What the hell?

"Oi!" I shouted, leaving my hiding place behind. "Knock it off! This is private property, jackasses!"

They turned and I flinched back. They were wearing monster masks, each more hideous and grotesque than the last. Irritated, I stomped forward and yanked the mask off the leader's head. Duncan's smirking face appeared before me. I stifled a growl.

"Hey, freak!" he called, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. "No one wants you here! Get out of our town!" Seeing me bare my teeth (sans fangs, sadly), he jerked his head to his flunkies and took off like someone had set hellhounds on his sorry ass. I flicked his diminishing back the bird and turned to see the damage.

GET LOST MUTANT SCUM

NO FREAKS ALLOWED

"Great," I snarled to myself, and, unable to contain the urge, I held out my hand and charged a massive blast. The silver shot from my palm like a bullet, drilling into the rubble and blowing it to pieces.

Was I pissed? Yes. True, I didn't exactly have a record anymore (which meant less police on my ass when the inducer was off, always a plus), but this was why I never wanted to come out in the first place. To Grace... well. She wasn't a bigoted jerk. So there.

"This was so much easier when just the Brotherhood hated us," I growled. Jaw clenched, I stalked back over to the stairs. Dark rage bled through me. Their faces... they thought they were so cool. Let's go scare off the freaks! Hah. Pathetic.

I spent the rest of the night burning a hole into the faux-dinner table with my angry gaze. I didn't even bother to move when Xavier rolled through, Jubilee in tow. Seems that, in light of the recent scandal surrounding the events in Bayville, some of the New Mutant's parents had decided to cut their losses and beat it. With the sun just peeking in over the horizon, I found myself no longer alone.

Logan, Miss Ororo, Jean, Scott, and finally Xavier trickled in. I arched one brow and propped my head up on my fist.

"What's the big news this time?" I said sarcastically. Anger burned in my chest. "Aliens are real? We're just living in a fantasy dream? Or is it everyone's finally come to their senses and decided to leave us alone?"

"You are going back to school today."

My jaw dropped. My breath caught in my throat. For one, terrible moment, I thought I was going to choke. Honest to goodness choke.

"You're insane. You're insane!" I laughed, but it was high and wild. Scott and Jean were just as stunned, still rendered speechless. "You can't expect us to go back there! They've seen our faces! They know what we are!"

"What you are," Xavier said sharply, "and what you seem to forget so often, is a group of teenagers struggling to fit in with your schoolmates because of circumstances you had no control over."

My mouth clicked shut. "Loki," Miss Ororo said gently. "We know this is hard. But it is your duty-"

"To what?" I said tiredly. "To get killed by people with no social consciences? To deal with even more crap than I normally would?" I raised desperate eyes up to her. "To save the world? What kind of teenager has that kind of responsibility?"

No one had an answer to that. I wasn't surprised.

"I am sorry to place this burden on you," Xavier said, face long. Shadows darkened his eyes. "But, as the oldest students at this institute, it is your responsibility to look out for the younger children. I am asking you - please. Show them we want peace. Show them that we are not to be feared."

"So no powers then?" Scott summed up. Xavier just nodded.

"Get ready for school," Xavier sighed wearily. "And the best of luck. This is our only chance to prove we mean no harm. They will only allow you back for one day - be sure to be on your best behavior. A committee is meeting tonight to decide whether or not you will remain students there."

I nodded. As I stood, numb, Xavier gestured for the adults to come have a second, secret-ish meeting with him. I couldn't have cared less; at this point, all I wanted was a nice, unbroken night of sleep. And a handgun. But neither of those were looking to be options, so I scouted through all the ash above and managed to pick out a few less-than-crispy articles of clothing.

Scott ended up giving us all a ride. Something about not wanting Kurt or Kitty or Evan or Rogue getting harassed by the other students. I snorted at the thought, drawing a stare. It was going to happen sooner or later, might as well get it over with.

He pulled around the corner and let us off, stowing his precious convertible under a thicket of bushes. As he did so, I shouldered my pack and stuck one hand in my pocket. "Coming or what?" I said impatiently.

"Just a sec." He added the finishing touch - a broken branch - and jogged to meet me on the sidewalk. Jean was silent and watchful at his other side and we made our way slowly towards the school. The younger kids were up ahead, and we could hear the tense conversation trying to find a foothold.

"Check this out." I bent over, picking up a discarded newspaper. "We made the cover." Is that a good thing, or a bad thing? I wondered silently to myself. I skimmed through the article: mutants - ah!, hey look - kids!, our names, some 'unknown' fuzzy blue dude (Kurt), and a total body count from the robot. It was in the low hundreds. I winced.

I almost killed a few people not too long ago. Granted, it was Lance's powers, but my orders.

I shook my head fiercely and passed the paper to Scott. Us or them. It was us or them.

The courtyard was dead silent as we walked. Behind us, a swell of murmurings followed. I swallowed. A ball of anxiety contracted in my stomach and I felt the urge to throw up, even though I hadn't eaten breakfast.

"Loki," a soft voice called, and Grace was there, her arms around me, nuzzling my neck. I let out a shuddering breath and met her eyes, grinning.

"Hey." I planted a kiss on her nose. "How's things going?"

"Okay, I guess. I'm lucky my mom doesn't read the paper." One corner of her mouth twitched upwards, but the smile wasn't forthcoming. I couldn't blame her.

"Watch out, girl!" someone called. "Don't want his mutant cooties up your-"

"Finish that sentence and I will gut you," I growled, hands fisting. The instigator paled, eyes wide, and dashed away.

No one is going to put Grace in this mess, even if I have to take her stones for her.

"You shouldn't do that," she said in a low voice as I pulled a book out of my locker. Which, I might so pleasantly add, had been covered with paper taped to the front. Insults ranging from my looks to my parents were scribbled in a rainbow of colors. Ignoring the burn of shame in my stomach, I tore them off and crumpled them into a ball.

"Do what?" I turned to her, leaning casually against the locker bay.

"Threaten them like that. You're trying to make a good impression, here," Grace argued, frowning. I shrugged, winced as a passing schoolmate kicked me in the back of the knee, and bit back a grimace.

"Ow." I sighed and clutched her hand in mine. It was like a lifeline; I was squeezing it like it was the only thing keeping me alive. Which, potentially, it could be. "Doesn't matter. I'd've said that before that asshole knew about me."

Grace sighed heavily and didn't respond. I kept quiet myself. There really wasn't anything to say. All we had to do was get through the day and we'd know about my future or not.

"How'd you even find out about the board meeting tonight?" I muttered. As we walked, people were shooting me poisonous glares, which I returned. I could see the wheels in their brains turning: a Xavier kid, on the news, that one white-haired guy wanted by police. It wasn't difficult at all. People are so simple when they hate.

"Gossip." Grace tugged me into our first hour and sat me down next to the teacher's desk. At my questioning (read: indignant) look, she lifted her brows and said, "Do you think they're gonna try anything when you're this close to the teacher?"

As it turned out, yes. Yes they would.

I spent the next two or three hours of my life being pelted with various things (pencils, candy wrappers, paper balls, and on one memorable occasion, a text book). No matter what I said to scare them off, they always came back with a fresh load of ammo. I was kicked, punched, tripped, and shoved. By the last hour before lunch, I was swinging between being so furious I couldn't speak and being so afraid I wanted to curl into a ball.

"Freak," someone sneered as I passed by. I tried to tune out the comments, but it wasn't working very well. Turns out insults from other people are a lot harder to ignore than insults from yourself.

"But Principal Kelly-!"

That was a familiar voice. I stopped at the corner, listening. Jean was in gym, I think. Or supposed to be. Why would she be out here, talking with the principal?

"I'm sorry, Jean," he said, though his tone was anything but apologetic. "With the revelation of your... powers, the awards are going into contest. We're just going to have to see if you cheated to get them or not."

Oh.

"But I didn't-"

"I don't like liars, Jean, and I dislike cheaters even less. This mutant menace we have going on isn't going to tarnish this school's reputation."

"But-"

"Careful now. It would be dangerous to have a hot temper with your... powers."

Jean was close to tears. She worked hard for those: hard, and honestly. Not that Kelly'd believe her.

"Something wrong?" I called, slipping my hands into my pockets as I slouched, leaning against the wall. The cabinet that usually held so many of the trophies won by Jean was now close to empty. The box Kelly was holding, conversely, was filled to the brim.

"No," Kelly said quickly. "Just doing a bit of extra work to make sure this school is safe for _normal _students." I heard, as he probably meant me to, the stress he put on the word 'normal'. Jerk.

"Of course," I drawled sarcastically. "No reason that big, bad, scary mutants can't want to win something with hard work, right? We're all just rotten at the core, poisoning the water and using our powers to gain glory and crap like that."

Kelly's mouth was hanging, unhinged from his skull. Jean was giving me a death glare the likes of which I hadn't seen. I mumbled an apology, hitched my bag higher on my shoulder, turned, and bolted.

Well, that was a stupid thing to do. Stupid freaking mouth, running off without my permission! I whacked myself lightly with the heel of my palm, right in between my eyes. The dull pain was enough to encourage me. Loki does stupid things, he gets thumped. Soon, he'll learn. Like that dog experiment. Bell means food, so drool.

Grace's classes were on the other side of the building, so we didn't meet up before lunch. I was taking the long-ish way around so I wouldn't have to deal with the crap that came with becoming public knowledge when something slammed me into the side of the brick building. My face was smashed against the harsh stone, leaving a long scrape from my jaw to my temple.

"Hey, mutant," a voice that sounded suspiciously like Duncan's whispered in my ear. "Why don't you show us what you can do, huh? Then you'll go home and we'll never have to see each other again."

"Go fuck yourself."

I was jerked around, and someone planted a fist in my gut. I doubled over, wheezing, stars exploding in my vision. Someone grabbed my collar and dragged me upright so I was facing my attacker.

It wasn't Duncan. It was Danny. Grace's brother.

"You're messing with my sister," he growled. He punched me again, and for the life of me, I wanted to blast his head to a pile of brain mush (or knock him out... either way, I got to split), but I knew that using my powers would be a death sentence at this point. They'd tell Kelly for sure and then we'd never get to come back.

"No!"

"Using some freaky mind powers to make her think she likes you, huh?" he sneered. His eyes were the exact same shade as Grace's - a dark, rich brown - and I flinched when we made eye-contact. Using his forearm, he pinned me to the wall. I inhaled gustily, trying not to hear the whistle from my collapsing trachea.

"I don't even have mind powers," I whispered.

"Well, show us what you can do!" Duncan jeered. "Mutant freak! Why don't you just prove us wrong?" His taunts continued, as much as I tried to block them out. Finally I couldn't take it any more; I lifted my knee and jammed it into Danny's crotch. He dropped like a sack of potatoes, leaving Duncan all alone as my accoster.

"Not gonna fight back?" Duncan said with a smirk, glancing at Danny, who was rolling on the ground. "Cheap shot."

He dived for me; I had to fight the instinct ingrained into me that screamed _raise your hand fire a blast sharp sharp sharp!!!_ and was helpless to block the knuckles that made contact with my face. The flesh around my right eye swelled immediately, throbbing with heat.

"Ungh." I groaned, dropping on one knee, covering my face with my hands. Duncan laughed once; a sharp bark. I heard him take a step closer, than another, and I was cringing (_take it take it take it you'll be fine don't screw up god help_), expecting another blow, but all I felt was hands on my wrist and I jerked back.

"Saw you on the news," Duncan sneered. "You don't look like that, not really. Hell, you're not even human!" I drew back, face blank. "So, it's gotta be something that makes you look like us, right? 'S probably the watch. So hand it over. Why not show everyone what your face really looks like?" He snorted, bringing his foot up and aiming to kick me in the face. I held my hand up to intercept and was rewarded with a sharp pain lancing through my palm.

Cradling my now-broken hand in my lap, I remained kneeling, head bowed. It was better this way, I think. Duncan would let out his anger on me, not on anyone else. So I was just gonna take it, much as I hated to admit it. Nothing else I could do.

"Whatever," Duncan finally said, turning. "Don't need your stupid watch to let them see your face anyway." With that, he walked off. I let out a heavy breath, wincing as my injuries throbbed with each stiff movement.

I swallowed. That... had sucked. Royally. Much as one part of me wanted to punch him in the face over and over, another wanted me to sit still and take it. Must be the masochistic side I'm always striving to keep hidden, I guess.

That incident over with, I stood shakily, grabbing my pack in my uninjured right hand and slinging it over one shoulder. I stumbled slowly to lunch, just in time to see that we'd received unwelcome guests.

Just when it couldn't get any worse. Honestly.

"Out of the way!" Lance growled, holding his hand out threateningly. The six or so sophomores who had been seated in the corner table scattered instantly, and with a smug smile, he plopped into a seat. Pietro arrived, a blur of white hair, lunches of all sorts in his arms. "Today," he said dramatically, "we feast!" Everyone (save Wanda, who didn't go to school on principle of it not being badass enough) dug in.

"Ugh," I groaned, letting my head fall to connect with the tabletop. Grace patted my back and sighed.

"That bad, huh?" She eyed the scrape on my face, but didn't push. I was thankful for that. I don't want to think of how Danny was going to die by her hands just yet. Give it another... two hours. Then I'll be begging for some juicy details about how his manhood was going to be removed.

"Yeah," I muttered. Glancing back over at the Brotherhood, I scanned the lunchroom intently. After almost a minute of searching, I found Kurt sitting with Amanda (his adorable girlfriend, gag me) off as far away from the X-Men table as mutantly possible.

"Lucky." What I wouldn't give to go back in time and stop that blasted robot from ever rising from the ground a la _Night of the Living Dead_. Grace just nudged my shoulder with hers and set to finding the most normal topic she could think of to talk about: homework. How much she had, what subject, and what she was not looking forward to doing in the least.

Her voice made for a soothing balm to my frazzled nerves. I was lulled into a state of drowsy complacency, and helpless to resist the feminine wiles that beguiled my traumatized state. Somehow I was roped into letting her stay for the results of the board hearing at what was left of the mansion. How did that happen?

She tugged me along to our last hour - the last hour of the day and then I could go home and be happy and safe and not have to worry about anything except there was a world to save and people to look out for and oh god I'm turning into Scott - and I endured another period of abuse behind the teacher's back.

That is, until the teacher joined in too.

"So," Mr. Hastings said smoothly, pulling up a rolling chair to park himself in front of my desk. Next to me, Grace stiffened. "I hear you're the famed white-haired mystery man from winter, huh? Wanted in New York and everything?"

I dipped my head to my chest once. My worksheet was turning into a black blur; my left hand ached, as much as the right side of my face did.

"Well. It's too bad they didn't catch you before this whole... mutant thing came out." I gritted my teeth. In my right hand, my pencil snapped. Great. Now my scribblings would be doubly unintelligible. "I hear," he offered, "if any of you genetic anomalies use your powers, you'll be kicked out of school, am I correct?"

I flicked my eyes up to his, and he smirked. "Struck a nerve?" he purred. I forced myself to inhale, then exhale. Behind me, Grace flew out of her seat and slugged him, sending his head snapping to the side. Blood from his split lip trickled down his chin.

Eyes wide, Mr. Hastings righted himself. "You know I'll have to give you detention, correct, Ms. Bowersox?"

"I'll take that detention when you stop treating him-" she pointed a shaking finger to me, her voice acidic and low "-like he doesn't belong. So he's different. So what? Like you're a perfect person? What was that line? 'Let he who has sinned not cast the first stone'?" She whirled on the class, who tried to act like they hadn't been silently egging Mr. Hastings on. "Pathetic. Pathetic excuses for a human being. He's more human than all of you put together!"

Grace gave them one last glare and held out her hand. I slid my fingers through hers, reveling in the feel of her.

I was impressed, to say the least. And touched. She tugged not-to-gently on my arm (sending sparks of pain down to my aching and soon bruised midsection) and I found myself stumbling out of the classroom, pack in the crook of my elbow, blinking dazedly at my girlfriend.

"Come on," she growled, heavy boots clomping in the achingly empty halls. "We'll wait outside until the meeting starts."

She was willingly skipping class? "Who are you and what have you done with Grace?" I ventured weakly.

All I got was a bone-chilling glare for my efforts.

We sat off to the side of the auditorium, as far away from the steps as I dared to go. Which wasn't far. I wanted to keep my eyes on them at all times. Hopefully we wouldn't have another Duncan episode.

"Aren't you angry?" Grace said eventually. We were seated underneath a tree, with plenty of open space around us that made my paranoia run around shrieking like a small child. "They're being such... assholes."

I shrugged. I was so tired. Tired of... everything, really. Tired of the incessant questions about my mental state, of how shitty life had suddenly become, of how I couldn't be me anymore. I had to be this strong person for Xavier's crusade. What Loki felt - as a person - didn't matter. I was just a mutant.

"No." I sighed. "Yes. Kind of." I felt my face pull into a grimace. "They're afraid of us. But they can't be afraid, so they're angry. It's just bullying, that's all."

"Just bullying?" Grace trailed her fingers across the swollen flesh of my face. "Even bullies don't do this much damage." She huffed angrily and shot to her feet, her nervous energy devolving into mindless pacing. "You should be pissed!" she accused finally. "The Loki I met at the beginning of the year would have beaten them into submission!"

"What do you want me to do, Grace?" I hissed, fluidly rising to my feet, switching off my watch as I rose. Baring my teeth, I snarled, "Is this what you want?! For me to stalk around and scare them into liking me again?! Maybe I'm sick of this shit! Maybe I hate this so much I want to scream! But this-" I waved my left hand, ignoring the stabbing pain, and a blade of silver bit into the bark of the tree, gouging out a chunk and spraying chips of wood everywhere. "This won't do anything except get you killed!"

She raised her eyebrows and it took me a second to register what I had said.

"Me?" Grace laughed humorlessly. "You're worried about me?"

I nodded shortly and was about to snap out a reply when I noticed the sky beginning to darken. "It's time," I said. I turned my watch back on, my reply dieing on my lips.

Strange. I'd expected to be a little more... anything after that fight. The numbness that had permeated the better portion of the day was starting to worry me.

We stepped out into the parking lot, the masses of cars gleaming dully in the fading light of the sun, standing like soldiers in front of the auditorium. Guess the waiting-cum-argument had taken longer than I'd thought.

"Scott," I said by way of greeting. He nodded back, eyes fastened on the doors.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't take long for even such a simple thing to spiral out of control. It started with Lance, sending out a quake to get our attention, and then the Brotherhood was on us.

"No powers!" Scott shouted.

Typical. I smiled, thinking in a sardonic kind of way, how completely typical it was that I needed my powers at this instant, yet couldn't use them.

It was a blur of motion. Sounds melded; colors bled together. One moment I was saving a car from being wrecked by the Blob, next Toad was punching me in the face, sending white streaking across my vision. It wasn't until a minute (hour? day?) later that we separated, regrouping.

We were looking worse for wear. Scott was holding his arm at an awkward angle, Kitty was nursing a bleeding and puffy lip, Evan was dabbing at a cut on his forehead, Rogue was limping. Great. I felt the tenuous control I had been perfecting all day begin to waver.

I didn't want to see what would happen when I lost it.

Lance was panting harshly. "You can't win this time, X-Dorks!" he cried triumphantly. Lifting his hand, his eyes rolled up in his head, and the ground began to shake like it was trying to shrug us off.

His aim: the auditorium. Anger speared through me, sharp and hot. It was people like him who made it impossible for us to live normally. It was people like him who were going to screw up what good impression we had provided. I took off running, growling, and with a primal scream that shattered the night, I punched him.

Lance's jaw broke with a resounding crunch, his knees buckling, and he collapsed bonelessly to the ground.

I looked up, still incomprehensibly furious, trembling from the force of my anger. The many eyes of the parents were glued to me and I let out a frustrated scream, burying my head in my hands.

"See!" someone shouted. "He's unstable! Mutants are a menace, and they'll do nothing but hurt our children! They shouldn't be allowed!" After a moment I picked out the voice as Kelly.

My hands curled into fists. Around my knuckles, silver streaks arced.

"On the other hand," a cool, calm voice interjected, "my students are showing remarkable control. Even in the face of undeniable urge to use their powers, they are holding back."

Pietro glared at Xavier, and dashed forward. I whipped my hand around, releasing a blade aimed right at his head. Self-control? What is that?

Scott took that as his signal to unleash his beams. The force combined - plus a strategic look at where he was going - knocked him back into a tree. Blob charged forward, growling, and lifted a car above him, attempting to smash it down on Kitty and Rogue, but they phased through it and Scott was right there with Evan, blasting him into blissful blackness.

Deadly silence settled over us. Xavier was staring at me, head tilted, taking in my disheveled state. Every injury I'd received today felt distantly painful; a mosquito bite that had stopped itching. I sighed heavily, took one step forward, and abruptly lost consciousness.

* * *

The medbay looked as cheerfully bleak as ever, I noticed. Plucking at my sheets in an attempt to look anything but exhausted, I sat upright, gazing at my hands. One was bound in a plaster cast, a dark red. I eyed the black scribbles from my housemates in distaste.

I'd had my meltdown soon after they brought me back. It involved a lot of screaming at the general unfairness of everything, how much I wanted my dad back (weird, I know), and how much I hated myself. Although I had believed I was getting a bit better at that whole less-self-pity-don't-drown-in-it type of thing. Apparently not, huh?

Grace had witnessed the whole thing. Including, might I add, the portion where I was firing off blasts of my wind at everything, leaving the area in disarray. She could only stare open-mouthed at the destruction I caused.

Of course, then she clamped her jaw shut, stomped over, slapped me across the face, and told me to get my ass back in bed. Then she just sat and stared at me, while I did my best not to fall asleep. We spent the night quietly together, her supporting me, and me wanting to bash my brains in for being an idiot.

"Come in," Xavier said quietly. I jerked my head up, observing with narrow eyes how meekly the rest of the group followed him in to crowd around my bed.

How touching. Gag.

"I've received word," he began, "from the Board."

Hushed silence. You could have dropped a pin and we would have jumped out of our skins.

"They greatly disapproved of you using your powers at all on school grounds," Xavier finally said, meeting my eyes. "They were especially worried about you, Loki, due to your... general infamy."

Hah! Infamy? You call being wanted by the police and being treated like a freak infamy? It's obvious we've got some different ideas about that, but please. Continue.

"They want to put you on a week-long trial run. If you show any more outbursts-" talking about my absolute meltdown at the Brotherhood, I'm sure "-you will be removed. Otherwise, however, you all have been allowed to go back."

A few of us grinned weakly, but for the most part, it was no New Year's party. "I'm scared," Kitty murmured, wrapping her arms around her middle. Some of the younger ones - Kurt was notably absent - shivered and nodded fervently.

"It is a challenge," Xavier said gravely. "One that children like yourselves should not have to take up. However..." He cast a knowing glance at all of us, even Grace, who clutched my hand in a white-knuckled death grip. "I have faith you will all rise above this prejudice. All of you are terrifically brave, paving the way for generations of mutants to come."

"This is gonna suck," I mumbled to the general region of my kneecaps.

"Perhaps so," Xavier agreed, a smile quirking on his lips. "But I know that, no matter what, the X-Men will endure."

Brave words for a brave new world. The only question was -

Were we ready to face it?

* * *

**A/N:** Eek! Sorry it's so long! It just... kept going. Hope you like it! Would you rather have monster chapters like this, or smaller ones? I'm curious. Anyway, I don't own, don't sue, thanks for paying attention, and if you feel like it, you could drop a comment on down. ^_^ Until next time, peace!


	34. Therapy and Life Suck

There were a lot of things I could think of that were infinitely worse than being where I was right now. Getting my arms chewed off would be one. Being stuck in my nightmare realm. Having my eyes gouged out. Watching Grace get strung up by a bunch of intolerable idiots.

Well, maybe not so much the last. But still.

_Therapy? _They thought I needed _therapy?!_

I didn't need any freaking therapy. I'd had my meltdown for the year. The century, even, if I had my way. No more losing control like that, no sir-ree!

Shaking my head, I clamped my jaw shut, curling into a ball on my hospital bed. On the other side, burning holes in my back inquisitively, was the good ol' Professor himself. My fingernails were leaving impressions on the material of my cast, I was so tense.

It was six o'clock in the morning. Whereas my teammates were currently running an easy-peasy exercise in the DR to get back on schedule and start training again, I was being kept in here. For _therapy_. I don't need therapy! Therapy is for crazy people!

"Loki," Xavier said gently. "You have to talk about everything that has happened sometime."

"No, I don't." Is he kidding? I can talk to myself. I don't need him poking through my brain with a comb to know I might have some issues. Because, as I already know, I do. So what? "I'm fine. Leave me alone."

He sighed, once, and I heard the motor in his wheelchair fire. Not a moment later, he was peering at me, head tilted. "Everyone will be talking to me today. You don't need to feel like you are being singled out."

"Right, because you'd totally pull Scott or Jean or Rogue out of a DR session to grill them about how they're adjusting," I snapped. "Or not let them go in the first place."

He seemed a bit speechless at such a biting comment and lifted one eyebrow. "They have not been as reluctant to conversing with me," Xavier pointed out, lacing his fingers together and propping his elbows on the armrests, still staring at me. "You have resisted these sessions from the beginning, and I should not have allowed you to do so. It has only harmed you."

"Oh yeah?" I rolled my eyes, the sarcasm in my tone positively condescending. "Don't you think I'd know if I was having problems?"

"You are introverted," he began. "Isolated. You feel that because you look so different, you do not deserve the kindness I have given you, even though Kurt has received the same treatment. Your father's suicide continues to haunt you, because, no matter what common sense tells you, you still believe you could have done something. You do not speak about the nightmares, even though I have heard you scream for a number of people on the mental channel. You are convinced that one day Grace will wake up and see that she deserves better, which is why you treat every moment you spend with her like your last. Need I go on?"

I was struck dumb and speechless. What could I say beyond that? He'd practically pegged me to a T, now all he needed to add was my penchant for getting injured and he could just wrap up this crap session and we could all go on with our lives.

He seemed to deflate a bit, then, and (while rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers) he said softly, "I know school is... not the most comfortable place for you to be right now. Would you prefer to stay behind and help with the rebuilding of the mansion?"

I nodded frantically. If it meant getting out of school, then sign me straight up. Maybe Grace could come help, I don't think she'd mind the excuse, but then again... she is a good student, and all. I'd hate to be blamed as the reason her grades start to drop. But then again, I'd just get blamed for the mercury in the fish that messed her brain up in the first place, so we'd end up right back at square one.

Oh, fun. Remind me why I do this again?

Right. 'For good'. Whatever.

I watched as the Prof seemed to accept my answer and he buzzed away, leaving me with my lonesome once more. I fell into a half-sleeping state as the minutes ticked by - without anyone to bother, there was nothing to do but wait.

It took another half an hour, but they finally escaped the hellhole and dropped by to say good morning. More specifically, I was looking to speak with Scott. Forcing myself to get up from the bed, I managed to pull him away from the group and ask to talk.

"I'm not going to school today." Scott cocked his head, eyebrows waggling around like a caterpillar on steroids.

"Why?"

I just stared at him in disbelief. "You do have eyes, right? And a brain? And ears?"

"Last time I checked, yes." He cast a glance over his shoulder and said impatiently, "Look, why are you telling me this?"

"I just want you to let Grace know so she doesn't think I've been lynched or something equally as horrible." I smiled weakly. "I'm pretty sure Xavier's gonna be picking my brain anyways, so I figured I might as well help out around here while I'm doing it."

Scott's entire demeanor softened and he nodded once. "Alright," he said quietly. "I'll get Jean to take some good notes for you. Um... have fun, I guess..." He trailed off, obviously uncomfortable.

Trust me, dude. You're not the only one. I waved him off with my right hand, and he scuttled away, most likely eager to get as far away from the headcase as possible. I sighed heavily, running a hand through my hair and puffing it out of my eyes. I really need to get it cut. Damn. Another thing to do when I feel able to go out in public without getting murdered.

I walked slowly down the hall to my room, slipping inside and changing out of that horrible hospital gown into a regular pair of jeans and a shirt. I winced as the cloth dragged over the bruised portions of my body, which was... everywhere. Right.

I made my grand debut aboveground just as the rest of the gang was leaving for school. Kitty was struggling to pull on a jacket, toothbrush dangling limply from her mouth, and in her exuberance, she simply phased straight through me.

The toothbrush, however, did not.

Having a piece of plastic suddenly invade your bodily cavity after taking a beating at the hands of the Brotherhood didn't... hurt, exactly, but it was far from comfortable. I almost jumped out of my skin as I tensed. "Kitty, damn it!"

She turned, seeming to realize her mistake, and smiled cheerfully. "My bad!" She reached through my ribs and rescued the thing, leaving my lungs feeling minty fresh. With a toss of her somehow-perfect dark hair, she bounced off.

"What I wouldn't give for stuff like that not to be normal around here," I said to myself.

Of course, that's asking a bit much. We're teenagers, the lot of us. Asking us to be responsible is like telling a turtle to beat the 100 yard dash world record. It just doesn't happen.

The sun peeking over the horizon escorted the rest of my house-mates off to school, and as I remained behind, the low grumble of a motor approached from somewhere to my right. I sighed and turned my head, looking down at Xavier as we stood in silence, absorbing the effect of the sunrise.

"It's beautiful," I found myself saying. "I don't get why the world can suck so much and still have something so breathtakingly amazing to redeem itself."

"Just because there are people suffering doesn't mean the world must suffer," Xavier countered. "Nature listens to no man... or mutant."

I snorted, turning away to watch the roads. As the thought passed through my head, a line of trucks approached, each clearly marked with the name of the biggest lumber and hardware company in the area emblazoned on the side. Belching black exhaust, they pulled in through the gates and rumbled up the long drive, finally coming to a stop not ten feet from us.

From the lead truck hopped a burly man, head nearly bald, who introduced himself as Dave and said he'd be leading the restorations crew.

"I also have a student of mine who would like to offer his services to help in any way he can," Xavier added, nodding to me. Dave's eyes landed on my face, flicking back and forth.

"You're the one from the news, huh?" I stiffened.

"So what?"

He eyed me critically. "Not all that muscular," he muttered. "Don't have a bit of carpentry training, I'll bet. Or anything about the wiring." He let out an aggravated sigh. "Well, I'm not one to turn down free help, but I'm not sure what you can do."

"You have boards to cut?" I said, nodding to the other workers who were busy unloading said boards.

"Yeah. We also have power tools." I bit my lip briefly and decided what the hell. He knows my face already, might as well just complete the deal. I whipped one hand out, slicing the board neatly in half from almost ten yards away. There was only a poof of sawdust, and both the men dropped the wood like it was red-hot.

Dave was open-mouthed, and he turned on me expectantly. "You can do curved cuts? Can you sand? Drill holes?" I nodded to each one. A grin split his face nearly in two and he nodded once, muttering various building-related things to himself under his breath.

"Does it make you happy, knowing you can help?"

So that's the game he's gonna play, huh? Ask me questions when I least expect it? Well, who says I have to tell him everything? I bet if I just say something nondescript, he'll be all pleased and leave me alone.

"You do remember, of course, I can read your mind."

Damn.

I took a step away, a bit closer to the boards that were beginning to pile up. Dave had given the other workers orders to mark where I was to cut them, and I dragged my finger down them, the board splitting in half in my wake. I'm getting better at controlling it, I noted with a burst of glee. Kept up a steady stream of the wind and viola! Instant power saw.

"Yes." I shrugged. "I've spent the last year causing nothing but trouble. I like helping people; it... ugh. Never mind." I shook my head.

"It what?"

Yeah. Reverse psychology or other smart-person crap like that. I didn't have to tell him, so I wasn't going to. That was all it took.

"Oi!" Dave gestured over to me, yelling, "Bring them over here!" I hoisted a couple of the planks of wood, lugging them over. Dave nodded his thanks and I walked back over to my little pile, glancing over at Xavier.

Still there.

Damn.

"You don't have to be afraid to tell me," Xavier said gently, and the board I was cutting through shredded itself into a pile of wood scrap. Clenching my jaw, attempting to restrain my temper, I didn't respond.

That was about how the day went. He'd ask a question, I'd ignore him. He'd ask the question again, I'd give a short, terse answer, usually consisting of less than five words. It wasn't terribly exciting, not until I found myself with nothing left to do.

With no work to distract me from the imminent prying inquiries, I almost fled back to my room. At least I could be alone there. But no, Xavier had to be polite and invite me to eat a late lunch with him.

Well, someone just kill me now.

Our midday meal consisted of turkey sandwiches, eaten on whole wheat bread, with a side of some kind of canned fruit. I poked restlessly at my food, throat blocked by a lump. I knew what was coming.

"So," Xavier began, and I almost fell out of my chair. Righting myself, blushing slightly, I tried to busy myself in some way. So I stuffed my mouth full of said fruit.

"Can't talk now," I said with a cheeky grin. "Mouth full and all that."

The contradiction wasn't lost on him, and he didn't seem amused. Finally, though, he seemed to have an idea and he steepled his fingers under his chin. "How about, for every question I ask, you may ask me one? Quid pro quo, I believe is the phrase."

I fell still, silently thinking. This was a good opportunity... I'd get to learn about him. Why the hell he was doing this. A thousand questions raged in my brain, so I found myself shrugging in agreement.

"Why don't you talk to anyone about your nightmares?"

I winced, ice lodging in my stomach. Of course he'd start with the freaking hard one!

"I... they're painful. Emotionally. I-" I had to swallow, now, and the clenching feeling in my gut was almost painful "-I kill people. People I know, people I love. Or I'm tortured. I wouldn't talk about it if I had the choice. They're my problems, not everyone's. And it's private."

"It has never occurred to you that many of us want to help you?"

"I never said I wanted help!" I snapped. The sustenance I'd just ingested threatened to meet the open air and I shoved it back down ruthlessly. "I don't need people pitying me for this. It wasn't my fault, and there's nothing I can do to change it. So why bother?" I exhaled forcefully. "My turn. Why are you doing this?"

"You mean taking in mutants?" I nodded. I used my fork to begin carving up the main dish on my paper plate. Bread crumbs became soaked in syrup, but I didn't care. I wanted an answer.

"Because I was a child too, once. I remember how it was to have this incredible power, and be alone." His eyes were downcast. "That loneliness... I would not wish that on anyone. And I knew, someday, there would be others like me. Children - lost, confused, in search of someone to explain why their world was turning upside down. So I used the wealth I had been blessed with to build this place, and when reports came in of strange accidents happening around town, I invited the young ones to come here. So they would grow up in safety, knowing love and kindness."

"Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?" I snarled before I could help myself. "No one is that good. You're lying."

"You distrust me?"

"No." I threw my utensil down on the table where it landed with a loud clatter. The board currently being used as the flat surface on which to eat threatened to split as the wind-backed fork landed on it. "There's a difference between you and me," I hissed, eyes narrowed. "You think people are all good inside. You think that, no matter what mistakes a person has made, they're still a nice person deep down. Me?" A laugh bubbled up from behind my lips and I threw my head back, letting it spill out. "Me? I know everyone's an asshole. No matter how far you dig, there's always bad at the center."

"That's a very cynical outlook on life, Loki."

I dropped back limply in my chair. "Yeah, well, God's got a sick sense of humor."

"Do you believe in God?" I glared over at Xavier, who looked positively unruffled. Bastard.

"I don't want to do this any more." That being said, I shot to my feet and was half-way to the stairs when something occurred to me. I turned partially, looking back at Xavier, who still looked remarkably calm despite being the focus of my ire for the day.

"I have a question for you," I said coldly. "Could you believe in a god that allowed people to suffer the way we do? Because I'm finding out the hard way that I can't. I'm just not strong enough."

I stomped up the steps, what control I'd gathered throughout my many months being eradicated in an instant as my irritation left a wake of tears in the walls behind me. I slipped out of the basement, jogging around the workers and ignoring their calls for my silver winds. All I could think about was getting away from there and not looking back.

Somehow, by a cruel-ass twist of fate, I ended up waiting in the bed of Grace's truck. According to my watch, there were only about ten minutes until the bell rang, upon which I would hop out, apologize for skipping, and suggest we just go for a drive and talk.

I shifted uncomfortably and huffed quietly. I'd said more than I'd wanted to. Not like I enjoyed withholding information for the fun of it, but... damn it all, they were my problems, not theirs. I could deal with it silently, and no one needed to be any wiser.

But... I wasn't going to lie to him, or myself for that matter. Talking had felt lightening. Like how I'd felt after being zapped by Magneto's crystal on the asteroid. Not blank, exactly, but less burdened. Free.

My musings were interrupted by a face peering over me; it blocked out the sun and I jumped upright, bashing my chin into Grace's forehead. We separated, holding our injured faces, laughing lightly. Finally she gestured for me to climb out and hop in the cab, which I did so with great relish. She started the engine with a roar and pulled out, leaving a grumble in her wake.

"So," she said, smiling, "where on Earth have you been? All Scott did was tell me you were fine and not going to be here today."

I shrugged nonchalantly; a lazy grin of my own on my face. "Been working at home," I said. "I'm a one-man power tool set, did you know?"

"Wonderful," Grace said dryly. She swerved around a car turning the corner too slowly and hit the gas; I shrank back in my seat and watched as she merged onto the highway that headed north, into the mountains.

"Where are you going?" My voice was nearing a squeak.

"A place we can talk," she muttered. "We've got to set things straight."

That didn't sound so good, I decided, and a ball anxiety contracted in my stomach. Fifteen minutes of driving later, we were eight thousand feet above sea level, I was feeling the chill air crisply through my t-shirt and jeans, and Grace parked on the side of the road and cut the engine.

"You said you loved me, right?"

What the hell kind of question is that? "Of course," I said, bewildered.

"Then why are you doing this to me?" She paced a tight circuit: five steps, whirl, five steps, whirl. Her chocolate brown eyes were on the rocky ground beneath our feet and I couldn't help but shiver.

"Doing what?"

"This - this - ugh!" Her balled fists smacked against my chest all of the sudden and then she was kissing me, clutching at my hair. I was confused, but I responded - how could I not? That only seemed to agitate her further. She pulled away, resuming her pacing. "Why didn't you tell me you were having nightmares?" she finally demanded.

_Damn it!_ Now that she spoke about it, I recalled that it had never come up in conversation, just the fact that I didn't sleep much. Or, if I had mentioned not sleeping well, she'd just assumed I was an insomniac or something. I growled angrily under my breath and muttered, "Because it doesn't matter. I sleep, I have nightmares. I can't change that."

"We could have talked about them! Loki, some things, you just tell people, especially ones you say you love!"

"Don't make this about whether or not I love you, Grace, because damn it all, I do! It's none of your business about what I dream of!"

"Of course it is!" Oh, she was livid. Her hair was everywhere, a halo of brown curls sticking out around her face.

"Fine," I snarled. "You want to know what I dream about, Grace? I dream about _you_. I dream about raping you, taking you apart piece by piece, tearing off your skin and picking out your bones. I dream about you, laughing at me, pulling my eyes out and cutting my arms and legs off with a rusty saw. You think I enjoy this? You think I like this?" Again with the bitter laughter. Maybe I should get that checked out. "You think I don't tell you out of some sick sense of pleasure? I hate this! This is my father's legacy! I can't get rid of it, so I just grin-" I pulled my lips back from my teeth, and at her expression I could have sworn she'd seen my fangs "-and bare it."

"Can you just cut it out with the melodramatic shit?" she snapped. I drew back, affronted. "Yeah. You have problems. Who doesn't? So you have bad dreams. Get over it. What I'm saying is - _trust _me enough to tell me about it. Don't make lame-ass excuses like 'it never came up in conversation' or 'I didn't think you'd care', because guess what? I do. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."

I could have replied - come up with a snarky rebuttal, offered my opinion about where she could take that idea and shove it - but at that moment, something large was rumbling around the bend. As we halted our strange little argument, an enormous SWAT vehicle, escorted by no less than six police cars, turned the corner. Following that, naturally, was a familiar Jeep, and following that was some nondescript car I could see Kitty and Rogue through.

The rumbling came back, sharper and stronger, and several of the police cars skidded into the guard railings. The SWAT truck thing screeched to a halt, black rubber marks fifty feet long stretching out behind it. Troopers poured out of the SWAT, and the Brotherhood (minus Speedy, oddly enough) swarmed out, meeting them head on.

I gave Grace a gentle push back into the cab - "We're not done here," she warned - and jogged back to where Kitty and Rogue were scoping the progressing fight out. They explained the encounters of the day - including my strange-eyed attacker, now called Gambit, rescuing them from a bunch of thugs, and the apparent expelling of the Brotherhood from school - and decided that they would have to keep Pietro (inside the SWAT vehicle, of course) away from the rest of the team.

Just another day in the life of an X-Man, I suppose. Though we're starting to get more drama than a soap.

I held my unbroken hand out, firing off a blunt blast that connected sharply with the back of the Blob's head. Surprisingly, he went down like a sack of potatoes, and I studied my palm, wiggling my fingers. Have they always been that powerful?

"Umph!" The earth shook again, sending me to my knees, and Rogue appeared like a gopher above the prone form of Lance, who was stunned on the ground. She lost focus - the only explanation I could come up with, though it seemed strangely deliberate on her part - and her eyes rolled back, the entire cliff-side heaving. The SWAT truck, having been precariously perched on the curve due to the ministrations of the resident brainless earthquake in a jar, began to slide.

"Kitty!" I called sharply. She jumped to attention, noticed where I was looking, and took off, sliding through the doors and only emerging one heart-stopping second later, Pietro looking bedraggled and cranky in her grasp.

"What the hell?" I stared at Pietro, who was rubbing his wrists and glancing between us smugly.

"There's been a change in leadership," he said, a crooked smirk on his face. "Unfortunately-" he glared at Toad, the only one not unconscious, who was cowering behind the Jeep "-our team is pathetic."

He turned to Kitty. "Nice job, slowpoke," he teased. "And you too, scarecrow." I'm guessing that comment was directed at me. "Way to put them down. Sure you've never considered a side shift? It'd be nice not having to work with idiots all the time."

I snorted. "And it'd be nice not having to look at you and think about your father and what an asshole he is all the time, so I'm gonna go ahead and say... no."

Pietro just shrugged and darted off, leaving a white blur in his wake.

Grace poked her head out, crossly asking if it was safe for the human again, and I just quietly hopped in next to her and asked to be driven home. She complied, all but seething in silent rage. Finally, as she pulled in behind all the construction vans, she turned to me and sighed.

"Loki," she began softly, grabbing my hand. "I..." She trailed off, looking positively heartbroken.

"What?" My voice was sharp as broken glass.

"I think... it might be best if we... you know. Took a break, maybe, for a while."

I think my voice broke an octave, in that moment. "What?!" It came out so strangled, so ridiculous. "Why? We don't - if this is how - but-" I just stared at her, eyes wide.

"When you can trust me," she whispered, giving me one last, parting kiss on the lips, "come and talk. I love you, Loki, but watching you tear yourself apart - it just hurts. And it hurts even worse, knowing I can't help." She smiled lopsidedly, sadly, her wide brown eyes full of tears. "We can still be friends. But not... going out. Let's just cool off for a bit."

She left, I think. I was still standing out there, in shock.

What?

Was I doing something wrong? Was I being a bad boyfriend? I love her. How could I not? Her face, her smile, her laughter... it was intoxicating. A drug. One I desperately needed, and now she was leaving me. Why?

I sank to my knees, buried my head in my hands, and cried.

* * *

**A/N: **^^;; Eh. I just want to say... don't eat me! Eh! It'll get better, I swear! Loki doesn't deserve this kind of crap, but he needs someone to snap him out of his funk, which is kind of what Grace is trying to do. Eep! *covers mouth* Sorry, sorry.

Remember, I don't own, don't sue. If you liked it (or want to yell at me for being a bitch to my character), leave a review. Flame away! Until next time, peace.


	35. I Am Not a Pet!

It had been exactly eight days, fifteen hours, forty-seven minutes, and six seconds since Grace had said she wanted space and left.

Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

So pointless, I decided, abandoning the counting as the clock flicked its molten red numbers, flashing the time for all to see. It wasn't like I cared, anyways. I mean... she was just a girl. There're a million of them out there. Why should this one matter so much?

_Oh yeah?_ my brain retorted. _Then why do you feel like someone's punched you in the gut? _It even had that stupidly condescending tone I hated from anyone over the age of eighteen. I ignored the protesting squawk it made and rolled off the couch, pacing.

I was beginning to wear a rut in the new wooden floors. Did I care? Not so much.

Pretty soon everyone would be waking up and we'd all help pitch in on the repairing of the mansion. Hip... hip... hoorah. My enthusiasm was putting the parents of athletes to shame. I rolled my eyes at the comparison and moodily flopped back down, scratching my stomach absentmindedly.

It sucked, this whole... space thing. I mean, never being one for social relationships, I'll be the first to admit I've never had a girlfriend. In Michigan, all the chicks were looking for tall, tan, and muscular. When they spotted me - tall, pale, and so thin I looked underfed - they stuck their fake noses in the air and strutted off, too-short skirts flapping in the breeze.

Granted, of course, they usually only got two out of three, because the whole damn state was under one big cloud all the time, but I digress.

The point being, naturally, that now that I'd tasted how great it was to have a girlfriend I loved, it sucked being away from her. Like, big time. And I feel like such a wuss saying it, but I really need her. She's my anchor in this hellish storm I call my life, and now I'm two steps away from spinning out of control.

Heavy thoughts, yeah, but hey. Ever since we were outed, heavy thoughts are all I can manage.

I spent the next several hours continuing in that same vein, and it was only at around nine o'clock in the morning (when everyone was awake and making too much noise for me to concentrate on brooding properly) that I pulled myself up and was put straight on roof duty.

Lucky, lucky me. Good thing I'm not afraid of heights, or else today would suck more than it normally would.

The sun was shining. Birds were chirping annoyingly loud. Bees were buzzing, and it wasn't long before a yelp from the ground told me someone had been stung. Overall, it was the stereotypical spring day that sitcoms are so damn fond of.

And I was stuck on a roof. Typical, that.

I lifted the hammer up, focused completely on the nail that would soon be receiving my metal wrath. Ten feet away, Scott and Logan were wrestling the satellite antennae into place, occasionally breaking out into manly puffs of exertion. I flicked my eyes skyward. This was promising to be a long damn day. Wonderful.

With no further ado, I brought the hammer down and somehow managed to miss the nail completely, instead near-instantly turning three of my knuckles a strange deep blue-ish color. I was too busy swearing my head off to decide if that was just my strange blood again or I hit it so hard it skipped the better portion of the rainbow. With my right hand now throbbing in pain when I tried to bend my fingers and my left in a cast, I gave it up as a bad job and threw the tools away angrily.

Unfolding my long legs from where I'd been kneeling, I sat back on the roof, tilting my face up to the sun. It had been warm, lately, I noted, and I was briefly glad for the weekly shopping trips of my female companions. They'd bought me tank tops, and I was loving the breeze on my slightly sun-burnt shoulders.

Sitting in silence with my eyes closed, I didn't notice at first when Scott had sat down on my right, but I heard someone breathing lightly and I jumped. Like, literally, a good six inches into the air.

Gosh, that paranoia, while useful in some situations, just isn't all that helpful in a familial setting. Who'd've thunk?

"So," Scott said awkwardly. "Um. Heard about you and Grace."

Who hasn't? "Yeah." I shrugged. "Probably for the best," I said airily, waving the lesser of my injured hands. "We've been spending a lot of time together, so she figured it was a good idea just to give each other some breathing room for a bit." Lies. She wants the truth: the nasty, gritty, Loki-is-an-asshole truth. Which, forgive me for saying, isn't what I want.

So there.

"If you don't mind," Scott said hesitantly (which put me on edge; when is the guy anything but pigheaded?), "could... I ask for some advice?"

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. Relatively speaking, we're about the same age (I didn't know about his birthday, and mine was going to be secret as far as anyone but Xavier knew) and to see him lowering himself to talk to a peon like me is just... out of character, I guess. He always has the answers. He's... Scott. There's not much more I can say about it, honestly.

And I was just kidding about the high-and-mighty thing. Jeez.

"Is it about Jean?"

He looked abashed, and rightly so. It's not like it was a secret: we've known for ages that they would get together soon enough. It was only a matter of time, really.

"My best advice? Do it before we do it for you." Scott cocked his head. Confusion was plain on his face. "You two are about as see-through as plastic wrap," I said bluntly. "And we're getting sick of you beating around the bush for months and months, so we decided if you didn't tell her soon, we were gonna do it for you."

He seemed to be attempting a rousing imitation of a fish starving for water, but it could have just been me.

"Go get 'em, tiger," I said dryly, and nudged him with a knee.

Scott would have replied - by the color slowly amassing in his cheeks, I'm sure it would have been retaliatory in nature - but at that moment an enormous bird flew straight at us and began flailing wildly.

We both shrieked like little girls and flailed right back. After beating us with its wings - dry, feathery, ugh - and clawing maniacally at our faces with its talons, the bird took off, cawing at us madly. Panting, covered in scratches, we stared at each other and simultaneously vowed never to speak of it again.

As we were lowering ourselves onto the ground, safe from batshit insane birds on suicide runs, Xavier puttered out and took a look at my handywork.

"Not much accomplished, I see," he said with a faint trace of humor in his tone. I stuck my tongue out at him and brandished my swollen and bruised knuckles. "Ah. Nevermind, then."

"Any particular reason you've deigned to speak with us, Oh Fearless Leader?" I quipped, trying to itch underneath my cast. No dice, though. Stupid metal-covered bones with their stupid inability to heal fast. Not like I was going to have a useful power like that, no.

"Actually, Loki, you have a phone call. From Grace." My heart leaped into my throat and I snatched the little cell phone away, ignoring the blast of pain from the probably-broken bones. Whatever.

"Hello?" I said timidly.

"Loki? Oh, thank God you picked up!" She was sobbing, and I stiffened, ramrod straight and now at 100% listening capacity. "Oh, Loki..." She trailed off, crying.

Grace doesn't cry. It's just not her way. She'll cuss, and scream, but crying is rare. Only when in extreme physical or emotional pain will the tears begin to flow.

"What's wrong?" I snapped, clenching the device tightly, ignoring the curious look from Xavier. Oh, and the throbbing of my knuckles. That wasn't as important.

"I - I just wanted to take a road trip - I was gonna come straight back - I'm in Detroit, Loki, I'm so lost, and the truck's broken down and I don't have any money and there were these people - oh god-" She broke off sobbing again and I shot an alarmed look at Xavier, who just nodded. I could have kissed him as I reassured her I'd be there soon and bolted towards the only remaining vehicle.

I jammed the key into the ignition, all thoughts blown straight out of my head, and I muttered, "Don't worry, Grace. I'm coming."

* * *

Of course, nine hours of screaming down the highways (and outrunning a police car once) didn't a happy Loki make. So, when I pulled into the closest parking lot I could find, desperately clawing for the cell phone I had been given and stabbing in the numbers for Grace's mobile, imagine my surprise when she answered accordingly:

"What the hell, Loki? I'm in New York. Bayville. You live there too, as I recall."

I bit out a terse apology and slapped it shut, tossing it as far away as I could muster. I then proceeded to screech every swear-word known to man whilst punching the nearest wall. By the way, if you're looking for a way to get all that anger out, hitting inanimate objects isn't the method I advise. Especially not with broken fingers.

Naturally I was so busy being pissed off I skipped the entire rational thinking part of the mystery, which is why I found myself whirling about to a masked stranger, who lifted a canister and blasted me in the face.

The gas stung my eyes horrendously and I choked, lurching forward, making a hasty shot before blackness swallowed my vision.

* * *

I woke to one sensation: pain.

No, I lied. Two. Pain, and the smell of burning hair.

"Get up!" Pain. "Get up!" Pain.

And so on.

Finally I lifted my eyelids - which felt about ten times heavier than they should have - and took in my surroundings.

Pink walls. Stuffed toys. A bed, decked out in full princess mode. And then, obscuring my vision, a face full of big, blue eyes and perfectly coifed blonde ringlets. Said big blue eyes blinked at me and I felt a curious finger poking at my ear.

I groaned and shifted; Big Blues stiffened and darted away, hiding behind a rabbit easily as big as her. For, upon closer inspection, I saw the lacy edges of a dress poking out behind all that synthesized fur.

"Where am I?" I said to myself. "What the hell?"

Pain again. It was sharp, around my neck, like a thousand bee stings. I trembled violently, jaw locked, and the little girl stepped out again, defiant to the last. She poked me again, hard, and I swatted her hand away. "That hurts!"

"Don't say any more bad words," she scolded, brandishing a remote. "Or I'm gonna zap you again."

The situation - once I realized what she'd said, connected it to the proper parts of my brain, and made the decision - forced a laugh out of me. Here I was, all of sixteen-ish years, probably twice as heavy and easily three times as tall, and she was threatening to electrocute me. How sick is this world?

"So, Mr. Elf," she said in a bright voice, "we're gonna play Tea Party now, 'kay?"

I drew my brows up, rolling out my shoulders and eying my smoking cast with distaste. Figures. I'm gonna have to get that fixed.

"Um, no." I stood fully, towering over her, and she shrank back. "I have to leave. Sorry." I took a single step towards the door-

-and fell, my muscles seizing and jerking. Stabbing pain blasted through my already aching body and I lay there, panting, eyes closed. Something occurred to my foggy brain: she'd called me elf. Which, following that line of thought, meant she either had an over-active imagination or my ears were showing, and in addition, my face.

Joy.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. At least she apologized, though. Nice touch. I'll barbecue you and then feel bad. Humans. "Can you get up? Bones never stayed down for too long, but he was littler than you, Mr. Elf." Her tone, her shining eyes - it was painfully obvious she didn't quite know what she was dealing with, but she liked it a lot.

I grabbed limply at my neck, the origin of all the burning, and found my fingers blocked by something metal.

A collar. She'd put a collar on me. An honest-to-goodness shock collar. Stupid monstrous little -

"Kid," I grunted. "Take this thing off me. Or else."

She shook her head; her curly hair went everywhere. She couldn't have been more than eight, honestly. Cute and innocent. A great way to start out, because then when you turn into a sociopath no one suspects a thing.

"Tea Party first," she insisted. "And I'm not a kid. My name's Annabelle. But you can call me Anna, Mr. Elf."

"Fine," I said gruffly, forcing my trembling body into a sitting position. "I'm not an elf. My name is Loki."

Anna smiled brightly and skipped - actually skipped - over to a full-length table, where she primly folded her napkin upon her lap after sitting down. After a moment, Anna just stared openly at me, and I took the hint. Groaning - it hurt like a bitch to move - I limped over to the dining area and flopped unceremoniously into a chair.

"First we say grace." She folded her hands together and bowed her head. I didn't; like I told Xavier, I couldn't believe in a God that let such shitty stuff happen to people everywhere, not just mutants. Anna didn't notice, though, and she proceeded on without making a peep towards my un-religiousness.

"Where did you find me?" I said after a second.

"Outside." She scooted forward slightly, tugging absently at the hem of her dress, and said instead, "Do you have magic powers, Mr. - Loki?"

"Yeah." I held out my left hand and dragged my right pointer finger down the cast, slicing it neatly in half. The bones were still screwed to hell, but the plastic was beginning to melt, so better get it off before it fuses to my skin. Seeing her round eyes, I held up both hands and spun a web of flashing silver wind in between my fingers, ignoring the pleasant feeling in my gut that came from her delighted laughter.

"Wow!"

Well. Trust a child to make me feel like a person again. But that was just how it went, right?

"Where outside? What did I look like? Was I conscious, or-" Anna tilted her head. I sighed. "Was I alive, or dead?"

"Oh, definitely dead," she said cheerfully, taking a tea pot and pulling two cups towards her. She poured for us both - real tea and everything - and pushed mine back to its place. I ignored it. "You had this piece of paper on your shirt." She pulled a crumpled sheet of lined paper out and offered it.

I snatched it away, scanning the penned script with growing fury.

_Dear Whoever,_

_This Elf has lost his way, and is terribly hurt. If you can fix him, he might just grant your wish._

_Signed, _

_The Shifter_

"Mystique," I growled under my breath. "Bitch." At Anna's reproachful look - and the reaching for the remote which I assumed was responsible for all of my pain, currently - I winced and mumbled an apology.

"Listen, Anna," I started, but she interrupted.

"Please, Mr. Loki," she begged. "Grant my wish, please?"

"No!" I snapped. I stood, knocking the chair over, and she flinched back. Well. Way to make me feel like crap. I knelt down next to her and smiled gently. By this time, I'd figured my watch had either been stolen or shorted out. "First of all," I said in a much gentler tone, "I don't think My- The Shifter meant to put a doggy collar on me." She looked quite ashamed at that. Good. It means she might be saved after all. "And second, hun, I don't grant wishes. I'm not an elf."

The truth hurt, but it needed to be said. Anna ducked her head, hair hiding the fact that her eyes were beginning to fill up with tears.

"Please," she whispered, and it was so heartbroken, so painful, that for a single moment, I prayed to God that whatever was making a child so young as her hurt so bad be damned to Hell forever. The moment passed, though, and I was once again as atheistic as always. "My brother... he's so sick... can't you make him better? Please?"

"No," I said softly. "No, I can't. I'm sorry."

I looked away.

Innocence is a precious thing. It should be preserved - to see a child world-weary before ten was a tragedy upon itself. And it was killing me that this girl - this Anna, who turned to an 'Elf' to heal something so close to her heart - was already exposed to the horror of this world.

_Like you and Grace. You've seen how people act; you know yourself better than anyone. You know that you don't always make the best decisions, and it kills you that you might have to tell Grace you aren't perfect, when all you want is to protect her._

And here I don't even like kids. Bloody brat.

I folded the paper in half and eased a pen out of a cup on the nearest dresser. "I'll tell you what," I said quietly. "If you need something, just call this number. The man is named Charles Xavier, and if you tell him Loki said to call, he'll help you any way he can." I pressed the note into her hands and patted her head, finishing with a pointed tug at the collar still around my neck.

Little witch. I stepped out of the room after she'd taken it off, watching it clatter to the floor and waving good-bye. She sniffled a bit; I almost found a tear in my eye as well. Almost.

I hate kids. Manipulative little bastards, the bunch of them.

The house was huge; I felt a bit better knowing at least the kid was going to get some good medical aid. Granted, of course, they weren't jerks and kept the house nice while letting their kid suffocate on his own vomit or something equally as horrible.

I danced around the housekeeper, finding my shorted-out watch in my pocket after a moment of searching. That meant either Mystique had fried it - and been close enough to put it in there, ew - or Anna had done it herself, which wasn't that much more of an attractive option.

Attractive in the sense of how much, exactly, my personal space was violated, not the person. Sickos.

One quick telephone call later and I was waiting out as far away from the place as I could get. The jet touched down with a puff of air, releasing the ramp and allowing me access. I glanced at Scott; he was cuddling with Jean and looked positively horrible.

"What kicked your ass?" I said, surprised.

"Mystique, a pack of coyotes, and no glasses." He gave me a once-over and asked the same question. My answer? Mystique, a shock collar, and an eight-year old girl. He snorted, a grim smile flashing on his face, and we all settled in for a long ride home.

Jean wanted us to trade stories; we obliged as best we could, filling in each other's blank spots. From what I figured, I'd been out almost the entire night, and the prolonged electricity exposure had kept me unconscious until afternoon. Scott had spent the night wandering about the desert sans goggles or glasses and, by proxy, had been almost completely blind.

Thinking about it, I'd say he got the short end of the stick, but I couldn't help but feel a bit resentful that he got his girl in the end and not me.

Realization burst over me like a thunderstorm.

I'd realized that innocence was a good thing... for children. Grace already knew what humans were like. She had defended me from their cruelty the first day we went back to school after everyone knew what we were. So... if she knew I wasn't all puppies and sunshine, it shouldn't be that bad, right?

Or maybe I'm just being melodramatic again?

It didn't take too long for us to touch down, and when I escaped from Xavier (he wanted to talk about Mystique and her apparent escape from Area 51, which was old news compared to the fact she tried to kill Scott and sell me off as a pet elf) I meandered down to the front lawn.

Imagine my surprise when I saw a familiar red truck parked in the drive, with a familiar face leaning on the hood. Grace noticed me and smiled, but it slowly disappeared as she took in my battered body and the ring of burns along my neck.

"Long day," I said by way of explanation. I bit my lip, suddenly nervous.

Logically, since she knows people suck, telling her I'm no better should help us get back together. But... what if she decided she could't be with a person willing to sacrifice humans to get his friends out of trouble? Assuaged with doubt, I said nothing.

"I've been thinking," Grace started, just as I blurted out, "I want to tell you everything."

We smiled at the little mishap and linked hands.

It might not be a happy ending, but it was damn close. And that was good enough for me.

* * *

**A/N: **I tried to make it a little lighter, hence the little girl making Loki her bitch. Like? Not like? Telling me to quit writing because I suck? Leave a review, please, and shout your feelings there. Remember, I don't own, no suing please. Any ideas, anything you might like to see, drop me a line and I'll see what I can do. Not much longer until we're done... darn. Well, peace until next time!


	36. We Are Not Alone

On the other end of the phone, there was silence.

Taking in account, of course, that it was around three in the morning, I'd just gotten done 'sleeping' (in the loosest sense possible), and I'd just finished relating every misadventure I'd had the pleasure of having. Grace had been called away unexpectedly just after we'd met in the drive and she'd called me at eleven.

Four hours. My throat was killing me.

"I won't lie, Loki," came a tired, scratchy voice. "This story... you scare the crap out of me." A lump rose suddenly in my throat and I gagged. "But that just means you need someone who isn't gonna blow in and straight back out of your life. I love you, you big idiot. You're stuck with me."

Hiding my sob of relief as a cough, I managed to croak out a response and then wished her a good night's rest. The phone dropped from my numb fingers, and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

It was okay. She loved me. She wasn't leaving.

With this massive weight off my chest, I dropped back into sleep quicker than I could stop myself. Damn stress and all its stupid ability to tire you out. My brain is so whacked I can't even come up with a witty quip, dammit.

The nightmare that pounced was much different than what I'd been experiencing for the past... who knows how long. I certainly haven't been keeping track. I wonder if anyone does...

Back on the subject. I was in school again, except this time the place was cavernous and empty. Drifting tendrils of fog creeped around every corner. I was running; to or away from what, I didn't know. The only certainty I had was the fact I was alone: I had been, and always would be. But the teasing sounds of a female voice haunted me and I ran, ran, ran.

I woke up with a shuddering gasp, and gentle hands pressed me back into the couch. I looked around wildly; the aching loneliness speared through me and I gasped as concerned faces peered at me.

"Relax," Kurt murmured. "It was only a bad dream. No need to panic." Kitty nodded emphatically, Evan not a beat behind.

Half of me wanted to scream at them to leave me the hell alone. Unfortunately, that half was quickly squashed under the half of me that somehow remained a scared little kid, so all I ended up doing was shutting my eyes and remaining very, very still.

They helped me up and I swatted them away, rifling through my clothes and sliding into something hopefully clean. I staggered down to the kitchen, dreading the pitying looks sure to come.

But none did. Kitty instantly began pestering Scott and Jean about driving with her (how she'd gotten her permit before me, I don't know). Evan was fixing his board, mumbling something under his breath. Kurt was drinking the milk right from the carton, prompting Xavier to say something and make him jump. Rogue was scribbling a last paragraph for a homework assignment, ignoring the copious amounts of crumbs on the sheet. Miss Ororo was eating a pear at the table while Logan read the newspaper.

Normal. It was like breakfast in a really, really big family.

For the first time in a long time, I felt comfortable being where I was. Being part of this place. Being an X-Man.

"Everyone," Xavier called, gathering our attention. But instead of a big announcement, it was just a simple, "Be good in school." Very fatherly of him, I must say. I grabbed my pack and headed out, hopping in Scott's ride as he drove us to school.

Apparently, as I later discovered, the eight days I'd spent at home, helping to fix up the mansion, didn't count as my week-long probation period. Not that I'd expected it to be, it just made coming back to school that much harder.

My teachers, alternately, decided to do one of three options: ignore me, spend the entire hour glaring daggers at me, or pretend the whole mutant business was a big fat mess and treat me like blown glass. Mr. Hastings fell quite neatly into the second category, and when he passed back the worksheets we'd done a few weeks ago, I was not surprised to see a fat red zero at the top.

I'd broken my left hand that day, making writing in my normal scrawl impossible. I'd gone for my right hand - like any good schoolchild, I'd done the usual method of holding it like a caveman and going slowly. It was only a little bit messier than my regular handwriting, and when Hastings had started in on the treatment, I'd broken my pencil. So it was only half-finished and had a big black mark down the middle.

I didn't contest it. At this point, I knew Xavier basically had a bed with my name on it permanently reserved, so schoolwork wasn't as important any more.

Yay! I'm just jumping for joy.

School was over quickly, and none of my classmates said anything as I shot past, intent upon meeting with Grace. A talk with a teacher from category three had kept me from seeing her at lunch, and I was eager for some face-to-face talking.

That was, until someone tapped me on my shoulder and I completely overreacted. And by overreacted, I mean... grabbed their wrist and tossed them over my shoulder, one hand out and charging a wind bullet before I'd consciously realized what had happened.

It was no one I knew. Not by name, anyway, he had a face that was bland and easily lost in the crowd. Brown hair, light brown eyes, a surprised look on his face and a backpack clutched in his hands. All the fight drained out of me and I helped him up with my other hand, swallowing.

That was probably exactly what the Board would need to kick me out for good. Damn, I'm an idiot. Stupid freaking paranoid instincts.

"Wow!" he gushed. "That was so cool! You're like a ninja!"

I lifted one eyebrow, unable to contain myself. "Huh?"

"You're a mutant, right?" I stiffened, but nodded, and he shook my hand vigorously before waving behind him to Evan, who looked confused as he spotted me.

"How do you know Kevin?" he asked, one arm clutching his board possessively. I explained what happened in terse terms, Kevin looking back and forth at us in poorly-concealed glee.

"Walk with me?" Kevin said. I opened my mouth to say no, I wanted to spend some time with my girlfriend, but Evan just nodded and hissed,

"Xavier's all about the inter-species connections. Just shut up and follow my lead!"

I stuffed my hands in my pockets and slouched along, listening with half an ear to the one-sided conversation going on in front of me. It didn't take more than a few minutes, though, before Evan decided I was wearing my 'deep in thought' face and decided to ask.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

I lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I dunno. I'm trying to figure out why Mystique didn't attempt to kill me too." I snorted under my breath. "I mean, it's not like I've not pissed her off long enough. And I didn't actually shut the door in her face the way Scott did. I just didn't help."

"Her and Scott have history," Evan pointed out, tossing the skateboard lightly from one hand to another. "She's tried to off him loads of times. You're more like... a nuisance. A mosquito, you know? And you're kind of vain, so I bet she figured a dose of humility would do you good."

I could feel myself puffing up in indignant rage, but his intelligent answer popped my balloon not a second later. I guess that would make sense. Scott's a leader for us all. I'm just a lackey. No sense in killing the soldiers you want to use someday.

"Hey!" Kevin said out of nowhere, whirling around and looking at me with a large grin on his face. "Can I see what you really look like? I mean, I've seen it on the news, but..."

"No." This I growled, and the human shrank back. Evan just looked at him strangely. I mean, I could kind of understand where he would be coming from: a teenager, surrounded by freaks, and with two right in his grasp, why not make them dance? But I didn't show my face for any half-wit on the street. So when Kevin opened his mouth to plead, I fixed him with a glare.

He wilted suddenly, swallowing with an audible gulp. "Never mind, then," he squeaked.

Silence again, as we continued walking to wherever it was we were headed. On my right, buildings and businesses faded into a park, with devolved into a gated cement haven. Guys and gals from Evan's side of things whooped and hollered as they landed (and horribly missed) their various tricks.

"Skate contest tomorrow," Evan said absently. I nodded, asking if he was participating after such a question, and he replied in the affirmative. "Though it might get cancelled." He frowned, brows pulling downwards. "The sponsor, Pow-R8, has a factory up in the boonies, but it got broken into last night. The damage is sky-high."

"So with money needed for repairs, looking for a decent skater might be..." I twirled my finger around my temple, and Evan smirked.

"Exactly."

"What've we got here, hmm?" A dark voice, new and unfamiliar, rang in my ears. I swung focus abruptly onto the new person, who was surrounded by a group of thugs. Come to think of it, so were we. Look at that. I try to be civil, and we walk straight into an ambush. That's it! I'm living as a hermit in the mountains.

"You can't beat me up today," Kevin said triumphantly. "I've got two mutants with me, and they'll cream you!"

I just stared. So much for inter-species relations, I guess. We'd been relocated on the food chain from 'worse than dirt' to 'so worse than dirt they're obviously only good for doing other people's dirty work'. I hiked my pack higher on my shoulder and took a step backwards, only to feel a fist tapping my floating ribs. Sucking in a breath, I decided to scoot up.

"We've got enough problems without handling yours." Evan glanced at me; I bobbed my head down twice and we both waited two beats.

One.

Two.

With an explosive cry, Evan popped his spikes and charged through a gap in the wall. I held up one hand, screeching a battle cry of my own, letting the silver winds wreath my fingers. Then I darted past the stunned bullies and took off at a brutal pace.

Fishing out my inhaler, I held it steady in my casted hand, just in case. Never could be too careful and all that.

On my left, Kurt burst out of a cloud of foul-smelling smoke. I swung my arm wide, but with the meds in my hand, nothing substantial came out. He was panting, too; his eyes flicking back and forth.

"That was close," he said, a smile teasing along his face. "I'm here to take you back to the mansion." He held out his hands, Evan taking one and me taking the other. I shut my eyes, clamping my jaw so as not to vomit. No matter how much he did that to me, I would never get used to it. Especially not after seeing what lives in the place.

We made it back to the mansion in good time. Xavier pried the full story from us (Evan still had his spikes out, for whatever reason) and sent us off while he pondered what to do in his room of awesomeness. I sat down for the first time in several months and actually attempted to do some of my homework.

Not that it went well, but it's the thought that counts.

Or maybe that's just with presents.

Oh well. Evening came and went; Kitty roped Logan into an evening session of driving and they came back two hours later, the communal X-Van in tatters. I took pictures, just to commemorate the occasion. We all had a good laugh, because Logan hates driving in anything that boxes him up, hence the motorcycle thing.

I stayed up all night, as was my usual. My late night grazing led me to another run-in with the Bleached Boy Wonder, in which he grudgingly revealed why his spikes had still been out when we'd gotten home. The plates down his back looked kind of cool, though. Much nicer than pointed ears, silver eyes, and white hair. Easier to hide, too.

Jealous? Me? The sheer thought!

Regardless. We skipped the requisite DR session the next morning in favor of eating another nice, family breakfast. Though I was starting to get creeped out by all the familial vibes. Restless, I motioned for Xavier to meet me in the hall. He stared at me openly, concern on his face.

"Why is everyone being so... homey?" I struggled to find a better word, but that was the only one I could grasp that had the feeling of... niceness. Peace. Companionship. That sort of fruity stuff.

"Your nightmare," Xavier said quietly. "I have mentioned before that you cry out for help on the mental channel, Loki, and this time, the nature of your dream was made clear when you began asking for someone to _be there_."

I looked down at him coldly. So this was just a... what, then? A way to make me feel better? Something to placate your little wind-up soldier?

"No." He glared at me, eyes full of fire. For a moment, I was starkly reminded of what he was: the most powerful telepath on the planet. He could take an egg-beater to my brains if he wanted. "This is our version of a family, Loki, finally seizing the opportunity to do what families do: spend time with one another."

"Sounds odd to me." I glanced over my shoulder; Scott and Jean were pouring over the recent article about the factory raid. "Scott, especially. He knows how much we need the DR sessions. Why skip out on them?"

"Mystique's attack taught him something." Xavier turned his wheels around, so we were both facing the bustling kitchen. The New Mutants and Beast would be down later, mostly due to them not having to go to actual school. "Practice sessions only go so far. He's taking time to experience life as a teenager, now, because he knows he won't be able to much longer. About as much as you yourself have been doing as of late."

"Oh?"

He looked up at me, a smile on his face. "Were there two tickets to Evan's competition today hidden in your pocket, or just another detention slip?" he teased. I felt my face burn hot and Xavier shooed me out of the hall. "Enjoy yourselves!" he called to my back.

So I was gonna take Grace and watch the punk skate. What can I say? Living with a guy for a while lets 'em rub off on you. And you might even find that you can stand their company. For a bit, at least. And we wouldn't have to talk, me and him, just let Grace and I hang out together before...

My shoulders sagged. Of course. Before the next set of bad circumstances came a'knocking.

Damn Xavier. Why's he got to be so smart?

Wrinkling my nose at the question, I fished a phone out of the couch and dialed up Grace. She agreed to come; she said her mom had been nagging her to take a day off anyways. Twenty minutes later, I was in her truck and we were sitting there. The silence was so thick, I could almost taste it.

Finally, I couldn't take it any longer. "Is something wrong, Grace? Did I do something to upset you?"

She turned to me, shaking her head as fast as she could without taking her eyes off the road. "No, no," she said distractedly, running one hand through her constantly-messy hair. "It's just... never mind. It's not important. I'll tell you later."

Something in her eyes warned me not to press. I obeyed my instincts and we turned into the parking lot with a screech of brakes. I hopped out, appraising the parking job with a critical eye. "You're over the lines on this side," I teased. She frowned and socked my arm; I threw my hands up and 'died'. Laughing now, we linked hands and went off to find a place to sit.

Not being one for skating competitions, I didn't have two clues as to what was going on half the time. Of course, neither did Grace, but we made up for our lack of knowledge with our version of commentary.

"Oh, and there he goes, face-plant, ten points... could have landed it a bit more artfully, though. And a twisty-twirl, a hang-nail, and a big jump..." And so on.

I managed to separate myself from her side to go say hi to the kid, and grabbed one of the Pow-R8 drinks on the way there. I peered over the heads of the shorter people, finally spotting his hair-do from across the way. I slid through the crowds, finally catching up with him.

"Hey," I said. "Good job out there. Are you doing well?" He nodded and gave me a thumbs-up, twisting off the cap of his own drink.

"Toast?"

I nodded. Opening mine, I knocked them together and said, "Hope you don't break your fool neck!"

Evan laughed. We both raised the bottles to our lips...

...only to have some chick with an eye-patch - come on, that's so out of style it's not even funny - knock them out of our hands.

"Don't," she rasped, glaring at Evan, then giving me a once-over. "Maybe he can drink it, but you certainly can't. It's poison!"

Mouths agape, we didn't have the collective brain power to say something back, and she melted back into the scores of people. We traded looks. I shrugged, a confused expression on my face, and an announcement buzzed over us, telling the competitors to get back in their places. Evan waved, and I struggled back to Grace's side.

With two bottles of Pow-R8. Hey, paranoia? It's knocking. It's saying, Don't believe creepy people with eye-patches. If you're thirsty, let someone else drink from it, and when they don't drop dead, you're clear. And she only seemed to think it would effect Evan, so it shouldn't hurt for Grace to try, right?

So when Grace sipped both the bottles at my explanation, she wiggled and said, "Seems good. I'm not dead yet, am I?"

I kissed her on the lips and said with a smirk, "I hope not." Eyebrows furrowed, Grace punched me again.

A couple skaters bombed. A couple shone. With the afternoon bearing down on us, Evan stepped up to the half-pipe (I'm not a total imbecile) and jumped down. Only, he must have taken off wrong, because he wobbled and the board slipped out from under him. He landed on his back with a loud whoosh of air and his spikes shot out, impaling a straight line up the curved sides on his left and right.

The shit hit the fan quickly after that. I apologized to Grace and she nodded brusquely, chocolate brown eyes burning into the back of my head. While the panel of judges was in pandemonium, I jumped onto the track and helped Evan to his feet.

"They're gonna be pissed," I said under my breath.

"Of course," he growled. I drew back, uncertain. His voice was deeper, darker; his face held a kind of anger I'd seen only a few different places. On Patrick, for one. On Mystique, when Scott locked her in. And now on him.

"He's a mutant!" the female judge shouted. "He's disqualified! Someone take him out of here now!"

I had to resist the urge to punch her. Instead I herded Evan over to a quieter place where we could hash things out. It was obvious to me that Evan had been one of the most skilled out there. The prejudice was... amazing. I shook my head, noticing with a frown that my knuckles were throbbing again.

Hitting them with a hammer hadn't quite broken them, but they still hurt like hell. And clutched in my hand was the bottle of Pow-R8. I moodily twisted off the cap and watched Evan do the same.

"Take a slug and grab your gear," I said quietly. "We'll get out of here before they get the cops." Evan sighed, his shoulders slumping.

"This sucks." I nodded, tapping my bottle against his, and put it to my lips. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone racing to us, mouth open, hand outstretched-

-the cool liquid slid down my throat, leaving behind a burning path of flame-

-plastic slid from my fingertips, sounds multiplied tenfold; the light became too bright to bear; my clothes were like dull knives against my skin-

-and blackness pounced on me, whisking me away.

* * *

"...didn't know he was a mutant! He looked normal enough! It's not our fault!"

"Yeah, well, he was hanging out with me! That should have been your first clue!"

Familiar voices. I blinked, cracking my eyes a bit, and moaned deep in my chest as the light stabbed my eyes. There was a tap-tap-tap of footsteps, the rasp of cloth against cloth, and I winced as the sensations poured into my brain.

"Loki." The chick. Creepy, eye-patch, got a thing against sports drinks. Her voice was like a loudspeaker in my ear and I shrank back from it, ignoring the stabbing of the blanket on my chest.

I shot upright, every muscle screaming, and fell back to the bunk with a howl of pain. Everything hurt. This wasn't a generalized pain, no, it was an everywhere-pain. My brain ached, my skin burned, something acrid made my nose itch and a gentle hand on my shoulder - so cold it sent a shiver down my spine, prompting me to lean over and dry-heave - caught my attention.

"I'm sorry," the rough woman's voice said again, but at a level I could stand. "I didn't know you were a mutant too. That Pow-R8 garbage is poisonous to us." I opened my eye a sliver.

Every pore, every crag in her skin became apparent. It was like someone was shining a spotlight onto her, then magnifying it directly into my brain. I moaned again and rasped, "My head... what the hell?"

"It's different for everyone," she whispered. "Evan is very... different now. You simply experienced a sudden increase in your senses. Some would call that a gift." She didn't appear too happy though. "But the pain I see says otherwise."

"No shit, Sherlock," I grouched. "It hurts..." It trailed off into a whimper.

"It should fade within a few hours," she said quietly. "Because of this, you will not be able to accompany Evan and myself up to the surface." I began to protest; backtracked, and cocked my head.

"Where am I? When can I go home?" I coughed; it felt like someone was trying to punch out of my chest.

"In the sewers. You may leave when you are healed. Evan may stay, if he wishes." She turned away, calculating. "I must depart. Lucid will take care of you." Without so much as a damn better reason, she left. I sat up again, fighting the urge to scream or vomit or both, and threw my feet onto the ground.

Shuddering at the sensations - every rock was a dagger, every breath a cold fire down my lungs - I limped my way out of the little chamber and into...

...a city. Underground. Mutants of all ages worked, humming, some play-wrestling or working the scrap into amusing shapes. I bit back a gasp, and a gentle hand on my arm made me jump.

"His carpals and phalanges are covered in metal," she said under her breath. "Inside one is broken, but it's healing. Other side the same, bruised tissue. And the neurons in his brain are going nuts." She looked up at me, blinking round eyes, and flicked out a forked tongue. "Oh. Hello. I'm Lucid. Nice to meet you."

I winced, motioned for her to talk quieter, but a thought agitated me once more. "I need to tell Grace I'm okay," I said, turning and making my way backwards. "And Xavier needs to know, too..."

"No, no!" she cried. "You can't go back, not yet, not until Callisto has completed the mission!"

"What mission?" I looked at her suspiciously.

"She's taken Evan and gone to destroy the Pow-R8 factory," Lucid murmured, wringing her hands together. "It's been flushing into the systems, and we've had two of our littlest pass away from the poison..."

I lifted my eyebrows. "Poison? Honestly?" I turned away, anger bubbling up within me, feeling like hot coals in my stomach. I whirled back around, snarling, "Let me go, now!" I whipped my hand out - just to scare her, scout's honor - and the blade of silver just missed her hair as she ducked.

With a hiss, she leaped, a blur of motion. I fell backwards into a puddle, screaming as the nerves fired _painpainpain!_, and my watch shorted out with a sizzle. Lucid paused, and almost seemed to deflate as she trailed one hand over an ear and into my grime-soaked hair.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "Can you do illusions, too?" She nodded to me, then flicked her own ear. "With that wind?"

"What? No. It's my watch..." I weakly offered my wrist to her, biting my tongue as her fingers left a trail of pain over my hand. "It gives me a human face. So I can go to school and stuff."

"Why would you need that?" she asked quizzically. "Why not accept your true self and live here, with us? No one would fear you for looking different."

"That's not the point," I said tiredly. "I... belong up there." It sounded lame, even to me, and I elaborated. "I've got a life. A woman I love. A man who cares for me, and other mutants like me. I can't just give it all up because of my face." I swallowed self-consciously as she nodded, downcast.

"Not all of us are as lucky as you," she murmured. "I suppose you are correct." But she just held her hand out and tugged me out of the puddle. I began shivering, the cold seeping into my bones. As I exhaled, silver sparked. Lucid stepped forward, eyes shining, and she gently - the touch was still painful, but marginally so - grabbed my hand. "Walk with me?"

I did. She introduced me to the many varied members of - as we called ourselves the X-Men, they too had a name for themselves - the Morlocks. Each had a physical mutation that made living in the human world impossible. I met women too many arms, men with eyes in their hands and not on their faces, children with tails and scales and everything in between.

I was amazed. Here we were, fighting for rights, and these people still lived like this, and... they were happy. It wasn't like they were rich or anything, but the pleasure they got out of talking to another being who didn't flinch at the sight of them was surprising. I was taken aback, and Lucid noticed.

"You think because we live here we are miserable?" she said playfully. "Honestly, we are far happier than we would be up there. You should expand your horizons a bit, Loki."

I nodded. The movement didn't send knives up and down my neck and I blinked. Everything had slowly darkened, back to its usual sharpness in my eyes. Walking no longer ached. I turned, grinning. "I'm better?"

"You didn't drink very much," she said, nodding. "Consider yourself lucky. When it first flushed down here, the children drank themselves full. The sensory overload killed them slowly." My stomach dropped; the good mood shattered.

I opened my mouth to apologize - for what, I don't know; perhaps the cruelty of humans that keep them down here or my own stupid prejudices - when Evan burst in, Storm hot on his tail.

Evan was... changed. His bone-colored spikes had become bone-colored armor, plates running across his chest and arms and up around his head in a samurai-esque helmet. I raised my brows, and Storm shot me a pleading look. "Talk to him!" she mouthed.

I smiled at Lucid and she nodded. "He won't agree," she said with certainty. "He wants to stay and protect us. It's rather noble, though we're capable of that ourselves. But you can let him know he's still welcome up at the surface."

Walking around the puddles, bemoaning the fact my pants were shot (I'm getting back to normal, thank goodness!), I gestured to Evan, who stomped over and growled under his breath.

"He's not gonna stop making that crap," he snarled, kicking the wall. "The look on his face - it was horrible. He knew it was deadly to us, and he liked it."

"Miss Ororo seems to think you want to stay."

"So what?" He seemed to wilt a bit. "I never fit in with your crew, Loki." My crew? What the hell? "They look up to you as much as they do Scott. Jean, too. I was just... there." He shrugged; the armor moved smoothly with the motion. "And now, looking like this..." Evan opened his mouth to continue, but I beat him to it.

I dipped my head to my chest slowly. "You're growing up," I said softly. "You care about them, even if you've only been with them for a little while. I can see that. I just want you to know, as much as I was irritated with you in the beginning..." I held out my hand and he grasped it firmly, shaking once. "I respect your decision. Just don't get yourself killed, alright?"

Well. Making a long story longer, we left Evan behind in the tunnels, the Morlocks looking on at the X-Men who escorted me up. Xavier gave me a replacement watch, since the other one was fried. Storm was upset I hadn't convinced Evan to stay, but by the tears in her eyes I knew it was mostly worry and not anger. No one had been injured; Xavier informed me that the Pow-R8 guy would stop. Evan's words haunted me, though, and I tucked that information away for another day.

Grace was furious, of course. Ranting about not being careful and kidnappers and such, she nearly paced a trough into the ground at the park where she agreed to meet me.

"And that's not even the worst part," she growled, raking a hand through her hair. A nervous gesture, I knew. I straightened, gathering her into my arms.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing you've done," she grumbled. Then she pulled herself away and sighed, scuffing the ground with one foot.

"What?"

"It's my mom," she muttered. "She... wants to meet you. For real. Like, at a dinner."

I could face mutants. Mutants were simple: revenge or power. The evil ones, at least. And crazy humans weren't that bad either. But meeting my girlfriend's mom for dinner?

I'd rather be poisoned. Again.

Oh, fun.

* * *

**A/N: **Eek. It wouldn't stop writing itself. Sorry! You know the drill, etc. Review, thanks, I don't own.

Espa - Sometimes a story needs a little wtf-ery. Hopefully this one will make more sense. Look! Character development! Loki's actually beginning to realize he's not the most important person in the world! (And about the broken hand hammering thing: drawing off my own experiences, I've broken my hand before and within five days with the cast on I was doing stuff like it'd never been broken. Sorry if continuity sucks! ^^)

Until next time - peace.


	37. Conflicting Evidence

"I'm going to puke."

I pressed my face into the window, feeling the cool glass heat quickly with the touch of my cheek. Next to me, Grace snorted and flicked on her blinker, pulling into another lane of traffic.

At my request, we were taking the significantly longer (and more scenic) route to her house, so I would have plenty of time to get not-nauseaous to meet her mom. Well, again. I don't count that business in the hospital as meeting properly.

"I'm sorry, Loki," Grace said, but her tone wasn't anything resembling apologetic. "I didn't realize meeting two of the most important people in my life would make you so ill."

I hastily began backtracking, layering on apology after apology, but she cut me off with a laugh. Failing that, I leaned over and kissed her cheek, inching steadily closer to her lips. Dangerous? Not more so than any other thing I've done lately. So I was prepared when she pushed me away and I ducked under that, continuing my assualt.

Until, that was, the bridge exploded.

Not, like, exploded exploded, just suddenly there was a lot of fire where there wasn't any before.

Grace slammed on the brakes and we rear-ended the cab in front of us. Pausing once to toss an 'I'm sorry' glance over my shoulder, I opened the door and darted out, hands aloft. People were rushing around me, screaming, and I could see the origin of the fire if I tilted my head back and looked way, way up.

Isn't that just my freaking luck. Get caught on a suspension bridge with a pyromaniac.

Who, apparently, made the fire look like a herd of stampeding horses and sent them running up and down the road over the cars, sending the stupid people of our city running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

"Hey!" I shouted. All I got in response was a lot of cackling laughter. "HEY!"

"It's no use," a tight, female voice muttered from behind me. "Pyro's never been the listening type."

Wanda jogged up next to me and we both stood there for a sec, looking. She obviously knew this guy, which meant he was one of Magneto's crew. And, actually, now that I think about it, I do remember knocking heads with someone wearing an obnoxious amount of orange.

"Well, that's magnificent," I said. "I've got somewhere to be."

"Oh, then let me assist you, it would be my pleasure." Her sarcasm cut sharply, and I turned away, not wanting to make eye contact. I have officially been whipped down by the female sex. I don't know how to feel about that.

She gestured once; blue light caged the tiny figure on the top of the bridge and tugged him off. Pyro fell, flailing, until he managed to right himself and use his flamethrower things to jet himself to a softer landing.

Right in front of us.

He smirked, turned, and set fire to an oil tanker twenty feet away. Laughing hysterically, he jetted away again, and I was too busy trying to blow the damn thing off before it blew up to care, even when Wanda bent down and picked something up. I grunted as I swung my arms back and forth, my blunt winds propelling the truck through the copius amounts of traffic to fall over the edge and hit the water below.

Scott and Jean showed up, and they make me think they've got a 'City in Danger' alarm hooked up in their brains, because honestly? Who gets here that fast when crises arise? X-Men? No. Not really.

And, to top it all off, it started raining. I was soaked almost instantly, and that only served to put me in a foul mood. Leaving the Wonder Duo to deal with Pissy Wanda, I stomped back to Grace's truck only to discover that every other car on the bridge was abandoned and stuck in our way.

"Shit," I said under my breath. "We're going to be late."

"Can you move them?" Grace said quietly. "Or should we walk?"

Oh, wonderful. I've been reduced to a hunk of metal mover for my girlfriend. Such a glamorous life I lead as an ousted mutant.

I did as she asked, pushing the cars aside with giant crunches of sheet metal and shattered glass. Grace followed behind, the front bumper of the truck a mangled mess. It took a good half-hour for us to navigate the rest of the jungle, and I got a plethora of dirty looks as I did so. Hell, I even helped a couple kiddies out of their carseats when their own parents ran and forgot them, and all I got in return was a set of scratches down my face and a split lip. But, of course, one flick of my watch and I was good as new.

I hate kids.

Now I was wet, bleeding, and not in a happy place. So what was the next logical thing to do?

Go meet Grace's mom and her mom's boyfriend. Oh, fun.

After another fifteen minutes of sitting in a car with Grace while we both were awkwardly silent, I was ready to throw up for real. I wasn't ready. I wasn't normal. There was no way in hell this was going to work.

I very hesitantly knocked on the red door in front of me. There were a lot of plants in their yard, I noticed, and they looked nicely upkept. Not much like our yard, where what's not destroyed by power training is overgrown, unless it's the front yard, in which everything is fake.

"Nice of you to finally show up," a new voice called. "Come in."

Grace reached over and opened the door; I stepped in and jumped. It was a six-foot tall wooden Indian thing. Resisting the urge to lash out and take its head off, I clamped one hand around my cast and forced myself to take a really freaking deep breath.

"Everyone jumps at that," the voice said, and revealed itself to be the short, frizzy-haired woman I'd met in the hospital. She was standing in front of an oven, one hand in a rooster mitt, the other resting on the counter. "Nice to meet you under some better circumstances. My name is Kay. Please, sit down."

I did so, nervously patting my damp shirt. It was new, and it even had a collar. And to put the frosting on my cupcake, Miss Ororo had come up behind me, zapped me into submission, and taken a pair of shears to my head. Where I'd once had long, kind of curly hair, I now had a short head with ten thousand cowlicks everywhere. At least it looked blond-ish and not snow-white.

"Nice to meet you too," I stuttered. "Um, what's for dinner?"

"Box pizza," she said cheerfully. "Hope that's not to simple for your big fancy Institue diet, eh?" I stiffened, but Grace put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Grace told me all about how you live up there. Is it interesting?"

"Um. Yes. I mean, we do a lot of stuff, but it's mostly a bed to sleep in at night. And food to eat. You know, the usual." I smiled, but it was weak, and Ms. Kay seemed to realize it. She may not read the news, but that didn't make her stupid. Rumors would circulate, she might hear the truth. I wouldn't know.

"Pizza's done," she said instead of an accusation. She pulled it out and cut it up deftly, putting two slices onto a plate and setting it in front of me. "Danny! Get your butt out here!"

Ice lodged in my stomach. "Your... brother is here?" I said, and my voice broke a few octaves as I twisted around in my seat to look at Grace.

She wasn't pleased, either. "I thought you said Danny was going to a friend's house," she forced out.

"Oh, he wanted to meet your boyfriend, Gracie," Ms. Kay sing-songed, twirling around and bringing more food-laden plates to the table. I looked at my dinner, all significant appetite completely lost.

Danny came out all right. He met my eyes and scowled, a black look on his face. "Oh," he snapped. "It's you." He looked to Grace, with the kind of expression that meant he was sniffing something nasty and wanted it out of his presence. "I thought you actually got a boyfriend and not a freak."

"Danny, leave Loki alone." Ms. Kay sat down with a flourish. "Eric apologizes, but his bike ride got stopped by a pile-up on the bridge. He might not be back for an hour."

I swallowed, blanching. I wasn't responsible for the original crashes, but I definitely didn't help much with that whole angry-pushing-cars-away thing.

"Ah." I fidgeted.

"So, Loki, what kind of grades you get?" Ms. Kay said, taking a bite and chewing fiercely.

"Decent." I fail lots of things, who am I kidding? "I'm passing. I won't be valedictorian, but I'll be moving up to senior year come fall." Hopefully. If I'm not dead before then.

"You plan on staying with Grace through summer?" Danny asked.

I nodded.

"We'll see." He busied himself with the meal in front of his face, but I didn't miss the malicious glint in his eyes as he said that. It didn't help that I was sitting across from him either. Oh, my luck.

The rest of the time was spent a lot like that. I would be asked a question, I'd give my answer, Grace would throw in something that made me sound like a decent kind of person, and Danny would utter something very foreboding that made me want to kick him.

As time passed, I slowly began to unwind. This was... kind of nice. Even if it was pizza, and Logan was going to be reaming my ass for all the extra calories. Even if Danny was sitting across from me, every movement a stark reminder that he knew what I was and wasn't afraid to use that information to get at me.

Somehow, post dinner, I was wrangled into doing the dishes. This immediately struck me as a Bad Thing, seeing as my watch ain't waterproof by a long stretch, but I really wanted to give Ms. Kay a good impression, so I did as she asked.

I took the plate and wiped it down gently with a soft cloth while Ms. Kay and Grace chatted over at the sink. If I looked up, I could imagine the dark leaves and branches of the bush through the window to be some kind of creature I had to beat off Grace. Ms. Kay would be so proud, and Danny would see I'm not an evil monster, and...

Before I realized what was going on, I was flat on my back with something pressing on my chest. My breath whooshed out of my lungs and I felt my ribs give an ominous creak. Once I'd registered, yeah, not standing up any more, now what? I blinked and made the fuzzy shape focus.

It was Toad.

Aside from punching him in the face when he tried to zap me into a different dimension, we'd never spoken. The Brotherhood kept out of our business, and we kept out of theirs. Why on earth Toad was choosing now to break that invisible line I had no clue, but I was getting squished, so I shoved him off and rolled to the side, scrambling to my knees.

"I need to borrow yer inducer," Toad said, by way of an explanation. "The elf's is on the fritz, ya know?"

And with that, he dived at me, slimy fingers wrapping around my wrist and picking at the latch on my watch. I gritted my teeth and swung my leg around, catching him across the middle and sending him flying back, reducing the table to kindling.

"Sorry!" I shouted behind me, catching Grace's horrified face.

"Just - let - me - borrow - it!" Toad yelled, grabbing my throat and squeezing. "I just need it for - two hours! Maybe three!"

"NO!"

We rolled, we thrashed, and finally I couldn't take it anymore. I pinned his arms down with my knees and held my palm three inches from his nose, letting him see crystal clear the ball of silver winds that was growing there.

"I said no," I hissed. "Now leave!"

"Okay, okay," Toad whimpered. I eased off, still holding my arm out, still training my powers on him. But before I could blink, his tongue flew out and yanked it right off my arm, leaving a bloody scrape as the strap broke. My ears flipped off my head and I froze.

"This might make your relationship hopes a bit out of reach, huh." I blinked back the tears burning and stood slowly, ignoring Danny's vicious smile and pleased grin.

"I can explain," I blurted, holding my hands out to stop the questions. "Honest."

"This is... rather unexpected," Ms. Kay said, letting the dish towel fall from her hands. "Hmm."

* * *

My life sucks. My love life sucks. And... yeah.

I was driven home by a superbly awkward Ms. Kay, who smashed Grace into my side in the truck. Since she didn't want me and her alone, of course. Ugh. That was a ten minute drive I could live without... oh, ever again.

Kurt had related his own woes to me as we both trudged in, back at the mansion. If the circumstances had gotten any weirder - or similar - I would have laughed. As it was, we were both head over heels with a girl we probably weren't ever going to see again.

I sighed and rolled over on my rarely-used bed, burying my head in the pillow. Ms. Kay hadn't expressly forbidden me from seeing Grace - she was still deciding, she told me simply - but I didn't hold out much hope.

The only good news was, since I wasn't on the verge of an emotional breakdown like I had been last time Grace had 'broke up' with me, I wasn't going to start balling like a baby. No, bottling your emotions is ten times healthier. Hooray.

Someone knocked on the door and I grunted for them to come in. Kurt poked his head in, blue fuzzy face and everything. Of course, I wasn't much better, being watch-less and all, but it was still strange.

"Want to go somewhere with me?" he said. I shrugged into the bedspread.

He popped out of the hall and into my room - totally unnecessary, by the by, he has two legs that work just damn fine - and grabbed my arm. One swirl-ride later, we were at the road a mile up, heading north. And, of course, we had a guest.

I slashed my hand downward and Toad yelped, hopping away. Before I had the chance to continue my methodical dismemberment, Kurt teleported us on top of a mountain.

I, of course, fell over immediately, practically comatose. Because, as they had neglected to mention, we were on a freaking ski mountain, which happened to be covered in a foot of snow. That only served to make me terrifically pissed, but since I couldn't exactly move, I was forced to watch as Kurt and Toad had another mini-fight.

It culminated in Toad admitting he had both our inducers in his pocket and begging - seriously, no pride much? - for our help. I silently urged Kurt to punch the idiot in the face and take us back home. But the pleading look must have gotten to him - plucked his heartstrings, if you please - and he grumbled his assent.

All because Toad wanted to impress Wanda. I am going to find a nice plot of land, dig a hole, and live there for the rest of my unnatural life. Hoorah.

Well, they both seemed to realize their error when I offered no snarky comment, so they ended up slinging one arm of mine over each of their shoulders and dragging me through the snow, following the snowboard tracks over the hills.

For whatever reason, the song about going through the woods to grandmother's house wound through my head. I giggled drunkenly.

Finally, though, we crested the top of a hill and I couldn't quite make my eyes focus enough to understand what that blurry silver thing was, but everything went swirly anyway and I just gave up.

At least it was warm inside.

As I slowly began to regain the use of my everything, Kurt and Toad put their heads together to figure out what to do.

"Magneto's got Wanda in here somewhere," Toad offered. "I don't know why he wants her, it's not like they're close."

"So we need a plan." Kurt rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Loki can be a distraction, I'll pop her out, and we'll pick everyone up on the way out."

"How about I rescue her?" Toad said, puffing out his chest. "My Poopsie-Smoockums needs a man, not an elf." Kurt clenched his jaw, swallowing the insults, and nodded.

"Fine. Let's just do this, alright?"

Even being offered up as bait, I nodded my assent. It wasn't like Magneto himself was here, anyway. Probably just his lackeys and a minion or ten. I stood shakily and steadied myself with one hand on the wall of boxes we had been crouching next to.

Kurt grabbed hold of Toad and they disappeared with a muted bamf. I wobbled my way out of the box room - just avoiding being spotted by the walking tin can - and slipped into the hall.

I took off at a slow jog. How was I supposed to create a distraction? Why, wreak havoc, of course. Without any other rational thought, I swung my arms around and tried to let loose all the barriers I'd put up on my power.

While it didn't work - not like I'd expected it to - it did create one helluva ringing sound as my sharp winds tore through the metal sheeting lining the halls. I heard shouts behind me, and the faintest whistling.

The area to my immediate right exploded and I was tossed forward, landing on my face. I scrabbled to my feet, sprinting off, not caring that my lungs were tightening and spots were swarming across my vision.

This had better be worth it, damn it.

My hallway ended abruptly, widening into a large central chamber. Kurt and someone I was assuming was Toad under the inducer were tugging fruitlessly at Wanda, who was unconscious and strapped to the chair. I took a step forward and my hands jerked to the left, hitting the wall with a clang.

"I have had enough of your interference," Magneto hissed darkly, glaring at the two boys near his daughter. Without so much as looking at me, he strode forward.

I'm not entirely sure what happened next - there was a flurry of limbs that made me miss a lot - but Kurt suddenly had Wanda in his arms, and he thrust her into Toad's. Toad stepped back, blinking, and Kurt put one hand on his shoulder and popped them out.

Without me. Damn, don't I feel special.

Magneto was turning to me, and a creppy little man peered out from behind him. Magneto gestured once, and the creepy little man started walking creepily towards me, wringing his creepy little hands together. And his eyes were glowing. Can't forget that creepy detail.

So my creativity at this point was bust. Can you blame me?

I jerked and tugged, but my hands were stuck to the wall. I even tried using my leg to make a wind blast and chop a creepy limb off, but it was weak and half-formed.

"You have power," Magneto said quietly. "You have the will. You would make a perfect addition to my team, Tempest. Why not join me?"

"Because I'm not a psycho power-hungry bastard like you!" I snapped.

"Because," Magneto insisted, "you have not had the catalyst to push you over the edge yet. I had mine, but you have not. Perhaps a nudge in the right direction will serve my purposes." He whispered something in Creepy Man's ear and he nodded.

Now I was scared. Honestly scared. Magneto had no qualms about messing with people to meet his ends, and I was just another means to them. A pawn.

_You see how the humans hate you. They will never learn acceptance. They are violent, and primitive._ Duncan's face, and Danny's, and all my classmates. I resisted, growling. _You can't trust them. They will always stab you in the back. _Grace, saying she wanted a break. Didn't she know how much I needed her? _They're all evil. We are superior._

"No!" I shouted, thrashing, but Kurt 'ported in near the chair and saw the activity by the wall. He popped away, came in next to me, and then we were gone, outside again, and I was too busy with the conflicting impulses in my brain to throw up, like my stomach insisted I should. But Kurt left Toad back somewhere with Wanda and took us both home in fits and starts.

Once we were inside the mansion again, Kurt flopped down next to me and sighed. "I'm sorry, Loki," he said softly. "I didn't see you, so I just wanted to get Toad and Wanda out before finding you. I teleported back inside the storage area and looked around there, but you were gone. I'm so sorry, Loki, Magneto almost did something to you and I - well, I'm sorry."

"No problem," I said wearily. "Just please don't take as long next time?" Kurt laughed and agreed, 'porting off and leaving me alone.

Alone, with my aching head and sore body. Ugh.

It was almost an hour later - nearing ten o'clock - when my phone rang. I snapped up from a daze, blinking, and noticed the noise, along with the watch Kurt must have left when he departed. Picking the device up and putting my watch on at the same time, I said, "'Lo?"

"Loki?"

It was Grace. Feeling wary, I said guardedly, "So, what's the verdict?"

"She says, and I quote, 'I might not trust you, but Grace does, and she's always had a good head on her shoulders. As long as there's no trouble, or babies, I suppose I'm fine, but if there are any more life-changing secrets, get them out now, because I don't want to have to kill you. I'm running out of places to hide the bodies.'"

I sighed, flopping back. "See you tomorrow then?"

"Last day of school before summer break," Grace said warmly. "Excited? We're gonna be seniors!"

"Yeah." If my voice was lackluster, she didn't say anything. As much as I didn't want to be - and with the evidence to the contrary - Magneto's words of suggestion were still swirling in my brain.

I'll be lucky if I don't jump off a cliff before the tension in the world goes spang!. Wishing Grace a good night, I dropped into bed.

What I would give not for his words to have meant something.

* * *

**A/N:** Hah, long time no see, right? This chapter is kind of blah to me, but I was struck with the urge to write, and here's the result. Couple of other notes: I'm going in the order it should have gone in, which means Cruise Control will be episode after next, and DH1 and DH2 will be season finales. Also, I've been toying with the idea of writing a sequel for this story in the movie fandom. Yea or nea or shut up and work on what you've already got? Review please and let me know! Thanks and peace!


	38. Rogue's Mental Breakdown of the Day

Today is the last day of school. Today is the last time I will walk into Bayville High as a junior. Instead, I will walk in a senior. Oh, this will be fun.

Whilst debating the merits of frightening freshmen into petrification via Mutant and Senior Powerz (patent pending), the sound of a ball hitting a chain-link fence startled me out of my thoughts. I shot the two - Scott and Rogue - a dirty look.

I was sitting on the bleachers by myself while the rest of our motley crew got to play racquetball instead of a kill-everything-in-sight DR session. And me? Well, due to an unfortunate incident involving me being bored, a microwave, and all my inhalers, I was benched until Xavier could get some new ones.

Seriously. I was bored. I didn't know his microwave would utterly destroy them. I just thought... sparks or something. Sheesh.

Of course, it doesn't help he's got industrial strength everything here. But that's semantics.

"Hah!" Rogue cried, lunging forward and batting the ball. It bounced past Scott and he stumbled. "Looks like Ah win this one," she said triumphantly.

"I guess you do," Scott admitted, wiping his forehead. I made a disgusted sound under my breath and rolled my eyes.

"You up for a rematch after school?"

Scott shook his head and set the racquet down against the fence. His tone was apologetic, even if his face made him look slightly constipated. "I'm going to the concert with Jean tonight, remember?"

Concert? Why didn't I hear about this? Resentment fluttered up in my stomach on delicate wings, but I pushed it away. What they chose to share with me was their business, not mine. Besides, I'd made it a point to not want any of their craziness.

Rogue mumbled something under her breath and watched silently as Scott jogged off. Instead of following, however, Rogue took a step forward and collapsed.

I jumped up like someone had put a hot poker on my ass. Let it not be said that I don't take care of my own.

In ten seconds I was through the gate and kneeling down by her side, checking to be sure she still had a pulse and everything. But, no, she was fine; she shoved me away and picked up her fallen racquet and stalked towards the door in the fence.

"You're welcome," I muttered, standing and dusting off my jeans. I was promptly treated to stars as Rogue chucked the thing at my head. I toppled over, limbs askew.

What a beautiful start to the day.

So, yeah. Back to school. People still avoided me. The greater portion of the football team still hated my guts. My teachers still pretended I didn't exist, the course of action they'd all fallen into as the months passed since our exposure.

I was stuck riding the bus while everyone else go to ride in Jean's new SUV. Honestly, like she needs another ego booster. It's smothering enough already. I didn't get a chance to ask Rogue why the hell she felt it necessary to bean me in the head after making sure she was still alive and all, either. Damn.

Grace was out sick today, which didn't help my mood one bit. Unfortunately - or maybe not - she'd come down with a nasty head cold and her mom made her stay house-bound until she wasn't so top-heavy. So I was all by myself today.

Sighing heavily, I shoved more of the numerous paper littering my locker into the garbage can. All around me - well, outside my little bubble of anti-socialness - people were chattering and doing the same.

"-so sorry I wasn't here before now," a faintly accented voice was saying. I perked up. Risty was Rogue's - arguably - only real friend. When she'd up and left, Rogue was crushed. It was good to see her back around again. "Mum and Dad wanted me in England while the mutant fuss died down a titch."

I snorted silently and stood, working the kinks out of my back. They were moving out of range of my hearing; but a water fountain provided me with the perfect eavesdropping opportunity.

So I'm a curious bastard. Sue me.

I mosied on over there as they turned their backs and bent over, pressing the button and listening unashamedly.

"So when're you gonna show me your powers?" Risty asked as she focused on Rogue. It was a pretty intense look, I decided, glancing out of the corner of my eye as I was nearly bent double. "I'm rather curious, since you're my best mate 'n all."

"Ah'm not." Rogue turned around, reaching for the metal bits on the sides to get her own drink. Instead, blue lightning jumped from her fingertips and into the metal; I jerked back a second before the entire thing went up in a puff of smoke and became foul-smelling metal slag.

"Whoa," Risty said, awed. "Are those it? That's sweet!"

Follow, or leave her to it? I stood there, thinking, but an announcement from the loudspeaker saved me from having to make my own decision.

"WILL LOKI HYDIMEN PLEASE REPORT TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE, PLEASE? LOKI HYDIMEN, TO THE OFFICE PLEASE."

Casting one last glance at the dwindling forms of Rogue and Risty, I reluctantly headed off. Kelly was not a favorite person of mine. Surprised? Me too.

I knocked on the door and the secretary called me in grumpily. Her desk had all but disappeared under the severe amounts of paperwork. She pointed me to the inner door and continued on with her work, muttering frazzled curse words under her breath. I slipped in and sat down, slouching forward.

Kelly's chair wasn't facing me. Without bothering to exchange pointless platitudes with the icky mutant, Kelly said shortly, "Congratulations. You are the official winner of the last two tickets to the concert tonight."

"I wasn't entered in any contest, though." I was confused.

"Any person - or mutant - who raised their GPA enough to get on the honor roll the last semester was automatically entered, excluding those who have been on the honor roll already or those who simply failed this year." Wow, that narrowed it right down. And since when were my grades good enough to get on the goddamn honor roll?

Well, I wasn't complaining. Maybe Grace's 'head cold' will be better by tonight. We'll see, though, I guess.

"Thanks." I stood and ignored the quiet insult Kelly threw at my back. Grinning so no one could see, I silently plotted the best way to go about enjoying this stupid concert.

To the payphones!

* * *

Grace, thankfully, was 'well' enough to come by seven that evening. Which was a really freaking good thing, because it took the rest of the day and most of the afternoon for me to remember that I loathe social events, and only usually go because of her. I'd much rather read. Or watch the tube.

Loud music. Bodies crushing around me. No room to breathe, no quiet to think. About point two seconds into this little venture of ours, I wanted to kill myself and be done with it.

Grace shouted over the booming bass, "Having fun yet?"

I glowered at her darkly, ignoring her cheerful smile. She had explained that her 'head cold' was just an excuse to hang out with her mom. They did it all the time, apparently. Lovely, giving me a heart attack like that, because, oh yeah. I'm a mutant. Nothing ever goes according to plan with us.

I could see various other members of my dysfunctional little household scattered around. Kitty was dancing with a swaddled mini-figure that was making sure to not touch anyone. Scott and Jean were absorbed in each other. Rogue was having a conversation with Risty.

And then there was me.

Ugh.

I pulled Grace close, trying to drown out the horrible excuse for music that was going on around us. Maybe if I stare at her long enough, I can pretend we're the only two here. That worked for a little less than a minute, when the older members of the crowd started to really feel the effects of the alcohol. I was being jostled back and forth, elbows in my ribs and sharp-tipped shoes nicking my shins.

Finally I couldn't take it any more. I wrapped my hand around Grace's wrist and begged her to come with me. Reluctantly she followed, breathing heavily and flush with excitement.

"What's the problem?" she said curiously, inhaling the young night's air and casting a glance back towards the door. "That was my favorite song by him."

"I just - needed a break." I ran a hand through my hair anxiously and tried not to panic. Having an anxiety attack would really suck right about now. "I don't even like that stupid guy."

Grace was miffed. "If you didn't like the artist," she said frostily, "why bother coming to his concert?" She crossed her arms over her chest and glared.

"Because I wanted to hang out with you," I said flatly. "And there was a deus ex machina opportunity for tickets."

The booming music and flashing lights highlighted the furious set of Grace's jaw and the glint in her eyes. She was about to respond hotly but there was a scream from inside the building, followed quickly by several more and a loud crash.

Our pseudo-argument forgotten, we both rushed back inside, shoving against the tide of frightened people. Grace held fast to my arm, and I was able to part the crowds once I remembered that my real face was kind of frightening. I hissed left and right, and the masses fled before me.

We met up with Scott, Jean, and Kitty at the foot of the stage. The singer who had been performing was long gone, and where he previously had been was now a pile of rubble.

"What's going on?" I said quietly.

"Something happened to Rogue. She went nuts and started yelling at someone. She must've touched someone, I saw a few unconscious people being dragged out. I don't know where she is now, but Sabertooth was here a while ago." Scott eyed the pile speculatively.

I half-turned back to Grace. "You should probably leave," I said gently.

"No."

"No?"

"I've had enough of you going off to be the hero," Grace said. "I can help too. Just give me some direction, I'll do what needs to be done."

I let out a sharp breath. "It's not that simple," I snapped. "These are powerful, dangerous, uninhibited mutants. I'd feel better if I knew you were out of danger."

She smirked. "You should know I'm not one to stay on the sidelines."

With a roar, the scaffolding and ceiling was thrown away; the Juggernaut was revealed in all his red might. He thrashed about, sending debris flying, and we leaped into action. I motioned Grace to stay back for now and swung my hands back and forth, releasing blades that just kind of bounced off his helmet. With another wordless roar, the Juggernaut punched a hole through the wall and leaped out. From somewhere behind us Mystique appeared, flowing from her natural form to that of a raven, flying through the hole after him.

"Shit!" I swore. "Sabertooth, the Juggernaut, and Mystique?" I kicked the stage. "What now, fearless leader?"

Scott rubbed his temples. He'd tried blasting the Juggernaut like I had, but it had had about the same effect. "Follow them," he said finally. "Kitty, stay behind and keep Jamie safe. When one of the adults comes by, meet back up with us."

I followed behind as we all piled into Jean's cushy new SUV, Grace squashing herself in next to me with a determined look on her face. Jean sat in the front seat, eyes closed, concentrating fiercely. After fifteen minutes of criss-crossing around the area, her eyes snapped open. "Logan's in trouble!"

Scott pressed the gas pedal down to the floor, weaving around traffic with expert ease. About a mile into the country, we saw it. Grace clamped onto my hand, biting her lip.

Sabertooth was beating on Logan, punching him back and forth. Logan's bike was discarded, lying on the road like a broken and forgotten toy. I leaped out of the vehicle with my winds frothing around my fingertips. That cat seriously owed me some. I'd take my payments gladly in punches to his stupid, rugged face.

Scott ripped his glasses off, getting ready to blast the cat into next week, but Logan held up his hand. "It's not really him!" he shouted, and ducked another - sloppy, I noticed - punch. "It's gotta be Rogue! I saw two Mystiques fighting earlier. Rogue must've tapped her and got the morphing powers!"

Oh, peachy keen. Scott still had his eyes closed, but he switched out his glasses for his visor and powered down the blast, sending Rogue/Sabertooth spiralling through the trees. A metallic thud sounded a few seconds later. I jogged forward, following the group.

Well, isn't this brilliant. She can turn into anyone. She's tapped me, Jean, Scott - hell, it was a prerequisite back in the day. Well, not really, but still. For a while it seemed like it, anyway.

Cyclops led us forward into an open area. There was a person-sized hole in the side of a warehouse; we crept forward, ready.

I poked my head through only to get a face-full of silver wind. It cut me above my eyebrow, sending blood pouring down my face. Blind on one side, I was helpless as the magnetic pull dragged me forward, followed by a damning red energy blast. Thoroughly bamboozled and edging towards a concussion, I sat down.

I watched, vision dimming and blurring, as she went through an array of characters, sending our team into fits as she repelled each of them.

"We're trying to help you!" Scott called out at some point. "We're your friends!"

"Ah have no friends!" Rogue screamed back, tears streaming down her face as her face flashed to Ritsy's. Wonder how that drama happened.

Grace watched, horrified but enraptured, from behind a box as the battle took place. She couldn't help. I knew she couldn't. At this point, all she could be was human fodder. She ducked as a blast of my wind was launched at her head, tearing through the sheet metal like a hot knife through butter.

I stood shakily. I had to make sure she would be okay. My loyalty to her was equal to that of my family - Rogue included - but she didn't have the benefit of superpowers. I dashed forward, wobbling, and leaped out of the hole, tucking her underneath me as a silver-tinged gale swept through and destroyed almost everything.

Rogue rose up out of the mayhem, looking ethereal as her hair whipped about her, and almost crashed into the Blackbird. Her face twisting into an ugly look, eyes alight, she gestured with her hand and sent the jet tumbling through the air, as her other gestured at us and lightning forked down.

Ozone pierced my nose, and the charge made my hair stand on end. Grace was lying flat beneath me, eyes wide, mouth agape. The ground shook - whether because she was channeling the Rock Head or because the jet had taken a nose-dive - and Storm appeared, a goddess in her own right. Xavier was with her, but if Beast came or not, I had no idea.

"It's alright," I whispered. "It'll be alright."

"I can't help," she murmured. "I'm sorry."

"Sure you can," I joked. "You can patch me up nicely when this is all over. And a kiss wouldn't hurt, either."

A shaky smile, even as chaos reigned. "I'm sorry for fighting with you. And I'm sorry I wouldn't stay behind." I just pecked her nose lightly and told her to go take cover behind something big and sturdy.

There was a whole slew of X-Men around (even a new face, yay), doing their best to take Rogue out. Kurt popped in, arms around her middle, and they both disappeared, but only Kurt reappeared on the ground. Jean tried to knock Rogue to the earth with her telekinesis, but Rogue just sent a bolt of blue lightning at her. Scott tried a blast, but one flick of her hand and it went off at a right angle, setting a fire.

It was horrible to watch. That all of our training was undone by our own teammate. I stood, grabbing my wrist, and began charging a blast.

"Logan!" I shouted. When he approached, I continued. "Throw me!"

He gave me a look that clearly said he thought I was insane.

"Do it!"

He hefted me easily - having liquid oxygen for blood cut about ten pounds off me, and our diet didn't help much either - and with a groan, launched me from his grasp. His extra momentum helped wonders as I met resistence with the wind shield Rogue had erected, but by then I was almost close enough to reach out and touch her.

Her mouth twisted into a wordless snarl. But I swung myself around and let the blast go.

By the time she'd yanked both my shoulders out of socket with Magnet Brains's powers, she was distracted enough to let the edge of the blunt wind clip her. She twirled out of the sky, a falling star, and I fell ungracefully, blacking out for a moment as I landed on a jet. Or a car.

It was hard and metal. I was in pain. Cut me some slack.

Grace was at my side the instant I woke up. The commotion had died down a bit, the noise of wind roaring and lightning crackling and people shouting reduced to a single, broken whimpering. Turning to peek over my shoulder, I saw Rogue curled up on Xavier's lap, and every minute or so she would gasp and bite her lip.

It all sorted itself out after that. The rest of the gang opted to ride in the jet. I wanted to go home with Grace, but her car was back in the lot by the event center. So we had to start walking.

It was by my decision I found Mystique.

She had been on a rooftop nearby, watching our battle. But when she thought the coast was clear, she'd hopped down, sadness etched onto every line of her face.

I was too tired to put up much of a fight. "Why?" I settled for simply.

She started, hands up, and bared her teeth at me. "It is none of your concern."

"You love her, somehow. Since you're not that creepy, I'm guessing you're related?" I couldn't shrug - my shoulders were not back in their proper places yet - but I settled for rolling my eyes. Good thing the pain hasn't kicked in yet.

Mystique looked away.

"Protecting her is admirable," I said softly. "But you have to know when it's good for her, too. Not just to help you."

With that, we left. Grace was careful not to touch my arms - we'd leave that for Beast - but she did bandage my forehead and patted the blood off my cheek.

"Who was she?" Grace said as we were driving towards the mansion. Trees whipped past. I was almost delirious with the agony, but I bit my tongue until it bled and tried to come up with a coherent answer.

"Someone with issues," I settled for.

She didn't press the matter. I was thankful for that.

Unconsciousness was bliss after that, and I was guest to a wonderful sight the next morning of Rogue in the bed next to mine. I couldn't exactly move my arms, and Beast wasn't about to let me go early, so I was treated to an early angst-fest.

She kept sighing every few minutes, and finally I snapped, "What is wrong, and how can I stop it? Just shut up!"

I got a nasty glare in return. But the weariness settled right back in and Rogue couldn't muster up the effort required to snap back. "Mah head. It's empty."

"Join the club."

"The Professor says Ah'm fragile after all the personalities were pulled out," Rogue said after a moment. "Ah'm not weak."

"No one said you were. But you really should trust us, you know. We're your friends." I paused. "Not me, really. I'm more like the insane older brother no one likes, but still. We're family, Rogue. If you need something - ever - all you had to do was ask."

There was blessed silence after that.

And I wasn't afraid to say I meant every word. Family is important. It's how things are. I wasn't about to go through another back-stabbing again, nor would I let it happen to anyone else.

Now all I had to do was figure out how to manage that.

* * *

**A/N: **Hiya. Another chapter. Ticking away towards the end, yes we are. Thanks for all the reviews, do it again if you've got something to say, your advice is lovely. Thanks for everything. About the sequel: Scout's honor, I won't work on it until this one's done. But it's a strange thing, even now. Grace hasn't appeared yet, due to the movie-verse aspect, but she will. I think. I hope.

Peace til next time.


	39. My Biggest Mistake

With a heavy sigh, I adjusted my facemask for what seemed like the fifth time that afternoon. The sun was blazing hot, and the dark blue shirt I was wearing didn't help matters much at all. But, alas, that's what happens when life decides to chew you up and spit you back out.

Okay, so technically it wasn't life, it was Rogue, and she hardly chewed me up, just yanked my arms out of socket. But, as Beast said, she frayed some of the delicate muscles around the joints, so instead of participating in our fun little game of mutantball, I was stuck being the ump. Honestly, I think he just wanted the chance to participate for once. Which sucks for me, but hey.

"Strike one," I said boredly. Bobby shot me a dirty look, and frost began to creep up the aluminum bat. "Pay attention," I warned.

Beast wound up again, a wild grin on his face. Of course, it was only slow-pitch softball with powers, but it was still interesting. Sticking my tongue out a bit, I imagined one of my silver winds manifesting and knocking the ball a little farther in the strike zone.

For my efforts, I got a glimmer of silver and the ball in the dirt. Beast gave me a quizzical look and I just smiled instead. "Ball one."

I was getting better. With any luck, I'll be able to reduce the need for waving my arms around like an idiot to only the biggest of blasts. That way, I can be more of a help. See? I'm _planning_.

Beast tossed another perfect pitch. Bobby slid quickly into his second form - the one where he's a walking ice cube - and swung the bat with all of his puny, puny might. It went sailing above our heads, a ball of ice, and Kitty had to phase through the fence and three trees to catch up with it. Bobby was sorely disappointed when his home run was spoiled.

I shrugged and readjusted the mask again. The next batter up - Amara, I think - nervously tapped home plate. Beast was about to begin his latest killing spree when a large shadow passed overhead. I peered upwards.

White, feathered wings blotted out the sun for a moment, then Angel was swooping in to a landing and tucking the things in, whispering something to Dr. McCoy. The blue man waved his arms to let us know the game was finished - making the New Mutants groan - but he crooked fingers at Scott, Jean, and I. We trudged back up to the mansion, me lagging behind.

Angel noticed. He fell back and walked next to me.

We haven't got much in common, him and I. He came from a rich family, I didn't. He's good looking and an icon in the city, I'm average and a nobody. But we at least have one thing in common: we're mutants. The state knows about me, but he's anonymous for now.

"Why the sudden visit?" I said suddenly, making him start. Feathers ruffling, he outlined the situation quickly. Gambit - red eyes and explodes stuff, as given by the description - broke into his mansion and stole something vaguely important for the safety of the future. There was a fight - he mentioned a guy with tattoos, so that might be Mesmero? - and he was knocked out. He came here to talk to Xavier and see if the boss man had any ideas as to what happened.

"Huh." I idly scratched my chin. "Sounds a bit more intense than our usual fare, but at least school's out."

We were really dragging along. I could hear faint giggles echoing up from the field. I let Angel slip in before me and watched as a trio of New Mutants walked up the hill behind us.

"He's so cute!" Kitty said to Amara behind one hand. "And those wings - adorable!"

I coughed not too subtlely. They paused, and I leaned in the doorway, crossing my arms over my chest. "Who, Warren?"

They brightened and bounded closer. "So you know him?" Amara said, biting her lip. I could practically see the romantic candlelit dinner scene playing in her mind right now.

"Yeah." I buffed my nails on my shirt. "It's too bad, though. About... well." I waved a dismissive hand.

They were hanging on my words. Ah, this would be a nice power to have. "About what?" Kitty demanded.

"It's just - I thought you knew." She looked murderous, now, so I went straight for my keep-the-girls-away plan A. "He's... you know... gay."

Amara shot an alarmed glance to her older friend. Kitty was looking thoughtful, now, and she just nodded and grabbed Amara's hand, tugging her past me and inside. Satisfied that Angel wouldn't have to deal with any hormonal time bombs - even if I maybe did just ruin his reputation - I wound through the kitchen and towards Xavier's main office, humming a cheerful tune under my breath.

Angel was there, but Jean and Scott had gotten detoured somewhere along the way. I leaned against the wall, looking out from under my eyelashes as Xavier tapped his chin thoughtfully, listening to the same explanation Angel had given me.

"You say there was a man there with tattoos all over his face," Xavier said finally. "We encountered someone matching that description not too long ago. He goes by the name Mesmero. The man you say assisted him can only be Gambit."

Warren nodded.

"Mesmero managed to manipulate Jean into stealing three rings out of museums around the area. They made a key of some kind, which was why Mesmero was interested. This stone that Gambit stole from you - it was half of the Spiderstone, correct?"

"Yes. I'd bought it several years ago, mostly because I thought it would be a good accent piece for the rest of my collection." He gave a lopsided half-smile. "I didn't realize it would be targeted."

Xavier sighed, turning slightly so he was staring at Angel unabashedly. "The Spiderstone is half of another key, and if Gambit has taken it, then Magneto is involved somehow as well. We must protect the other half - the consequences could be harsh if we allow Magneto to get it first. We will take a small force to London - where the other half is being kept - and protect it. Loki, we'll meet in the jet in half an hour. I want to talk to the rest of the team."

Something small and over-eager tripped over my foot. I lifted one brow and regarded Bobby with detached interest. My mind was whirring, though, with the information Xavier had just unloaded with me in the room.

"I want to come!" Bobby demanded, pushing himself up. He raked one hand through his hair and planted his fists on his hips. "I can help! Please!"

"Excuse us," I growled, grabbing his collar, ignoring the reproachful looks Xavier and Warren were giving me. I dragged him out of the little room, leaving the two adults to speak while the two teenagers duked it out.

I shoved the young mutant against the wall, scowling. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I snarled.

"Helping," Bobby said stubbornly.

"Helping?" I laughed. "Helping, like you 'helped' fly the jet, or when you 'helped' rescue me from the pool and almost made me _drown_?" I shook my head. "No. You need more training. You can't control your powers yet. Just suck it up. There'll be other missions."

He tried to jerk away, but my hand was still fisted in his shirt, so I just gripped tighter until he stopped wiggling. "It's not fair," he grumbled. His hands were shaking, and the faintest bits of blue were staining the tips of his fingers.

"Responsibility," I murmured, letting him drop slowly to the floor. "It's not just about doing homework on time or running in DR sessions until you drop. It's a little more complicated than that."

"You don't do half as much as the New Mutants," Bobby accused. "You lay around and skip out on chores. You push us around because you've been here longer and you're older, but that's it! I should be able to do stuff with you too! I'm the most powerful and advanced of my group!"

I had to restrain myself from punching him in the face. I settled for pushing my face in close to his and adopting a mocking tone. "Oh. I'm sorry. You can turn into an ice cube and almost kill some of your housemates every now and again. Good job. Let's all shower you with praise because you can hit a target, hmm? Have you even seen Magneto? Do you have any clue about what he is capable of?"

"Yeah, I do, because I'm listening to you, aren't I?"

I detached myself from the punk like he'd suddenly become red-hot. Bile rose in my throat, and I turned around and walked away.

How dare that little brat! Comparing me to that - that - bastard! We are nothing alike! Nothing!

I stomped down to the lower levels and climbed into the belly of the jet, curling into a ball on one of the seats. My watch was rubbing my wrist raw, and my ears stuck out uncomfortably, but I wasn't thinking about physical pain right now.

I'm not that bad, am I? I mean, I know I'm not perfect, but... damn. I hate that man. To be compared to him, even if the other party was pissed, hurt.

He's a bastard. I'm a bastard. He uses other people to get what he wants. I do too, but to a lesser extent. He's manipulative and doesn't care about the value of people. I'm manipulative, yeah, but I love Grace, and Xavier is important to me, and so are Scott and Jean and the rest of the mansion.

Someone laid a hand on my back and I peered out from my ball of shame. Scott smiled a bit and plopped down next to me, letting his legs splay out.

"So what sent you down here so fast after the briefing?"

I shrugged, uncurling a bit. "You weren't even at the briefing, Scott," I teased. "Too busy lip-locking with Jean, huh?"

"You got to listen to the explanation, but we got the briefing, along with Beast," Scott said. "And you're avoiding the question."

"Oh, Bobby made fun of my hair," I lied. "You know how vain I am. I just beat the rush." I added a blinding smile. The jet rumbled gently beneath us. We were off.

Off to London. Oh, fun. A few hours in a giant jet talking only to Scott, Jean, Beast or Angel wasn't exactly my idea of a good time, but I'd been invited, which was more than I could say for a lot of other stuff. Huzzah. I get to participate in the protecting of a rock.

As the time passed, I started easing off the notion that I was similar to Magneto. Sure, we shared some personality traits. But who doesn't? My kind are a dime a dozen. No big deal. Bobby was just a stuck-up little prick. Mouthing off when he doesn't know a damn thing.

"We're about to land," Xavier paged over the comm. "Scott, if you would be so kind as to escort our stowaway to the upper decks."

My eyebrows shot up. What idiot stowed away on the jet when we had the head psychic driving? Someone stupid, obviously.

Or, as I decided when the culprit was brought up, he had a death wish. Ignoring my black glare, Bobby took a seat across the aisle from me, twiddling his thumbs like he didn't have a care in the world. Oh, he did. Me. I was going to kick his scrawny little ass.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I hissed, baring my fangs. Bobby swallowed, but his eyes glinted.

"Helping," he replied firmly. "More than you could do, _Tempest._" I clamped my hands on my forearms and didn't wince when the nails pierced through the skin, drawing blood. The uniform's sleeves had been removed for summer, and, apparently, easier self-mutilation.

When the Blackbird was once again firmly on the ground, all mutants disembarked neatly and managed not to bite Bobby in half. No one was pleased to see him here except maybe Xavier himself, but then again, I'm not that great with faces. The last time I thought he was pleased, I'd just put all the silverware in the garbage disposal, and he was actually pissed. So, my opinion might not be the best to go off of.

Anyways. London. Big place. The museum looked more like a brick crypt, tall and imposing, with marble columns and big bronze door knockers. We slipped in - the door was either unlocked (stupid) or broken (even better) - and began spreading out.

Cyclops and Jean peeled off first to check out a wing, with Beast and Angel going off in the opposite way. Bobby was grounded with Xavier and they mostly just puttered along. I decided to cover a bit more ground and went off in search of an elevator.

Makes sense, right? Lots of flat space around. Couple of floors. Add some dimension for the search.

I hit the button and looked around, waiting for the box to come back to this level. Some of the artifacts were pretty cool looking - pots that had been intricately carved, clothes dyed extravagent colors, knives chipped from gleaming black stone. When a ding sounded from behind me, I abandoned my research.

I'm not a big fan of elevators, even less so when I started thinking in terms of battling and not of transportation. It was tiny, unstable, and overall useless. So when the doors opened at the second floor to reveal Magneto flinging things at a running Mesmero, I was less than exuberant.

Slamming my back against the wall, I prayed I hadn't been spotted and pressed the close door button. And then a few more times, for good measure.

Unfortunately, they noticed.

The elevator stopped with a screech and the doors were flung open. Magneto lifted one booted foot and kicked Mesmero in the stomach, sending him flying backwards. His head hit the elevator wall with a dull thunk.

I was standing still as possible, hoping that there was a chance he wouldn't see me. He did, after all, just take a head wound. But he just took a step forward and then my hands were locked around his neck.

"Let me go," I hissed, but not to the man I was strangling. Mesmero's eyes widened as he looked over my shoulder. I did the same, and saw Magneto striding purposefully toward us. My fingers slowly began tightening on Mesmero's throat.

A word of advice: if you're going to have a body part be regularly removed from your control, don't choose your hands. Maybe, like, your ribs or something. Something that can't be moved.

"The other half of the key, Mesmero," Magneto growled from the vicinity of my shoulder. I narrowed my eyes; a blunt blade clanged along his helmet. And then it bounced off and opened up the bridge of my nose.

Damn.

"As you wish." Mesmero dug his hand into his robe and pulled out a vaguely spider-shaped rock. It was round, dark brown, with carved legs and it was flying across the room towards where I could see the other had been set down in a corner.

They met in mid-air. Sparks flew. My jaw dropped. And... a giant spider appeared.

It was huge, lime green, and smashing everything in sight. Magneto was so shocked I actually regained control over my hands long enough to bring myself to bear on the ginormous arachnid. I held one hand out, charging a blast.

I _hate _spiders. Stupid freaks of the bug world. Too many legs and eyes. Ugh. I kill them with pleasure in the mansion. Too bad I couldn't just step on this one.

Magneto lifted both hands; metal beams from everywhere detached themselves from the walls and wrapped around the Spiderkey thing. It broke through them with ease, though, and headed for the windows. With the crash of breaking glass - the frames of which warped around its legs, slowing it for a moment. But only a moment.

"Shit," I muttered, letting the charge die off. Magneto was still staring outwards. "Good job, bastard," I snapped. "Way to set the ancient spider loose."

"That mouth of yours is only going to get you in trouble," Magneto said distantly, not deigning to look at me. "Now, we have to destroy it. Follow me!" He floated a few inches off the ground and took off like a shot.

I gritted my teeth and leaped out the window, catching the branch of a tree and swinging myself lightly to the ground. Magneto's crew had escaped the museum and Xavier's group was hot on their heels, following the swathe of destruction the Spiderkey was cutting.

"We have to destroy the key," I shouted to Xavier. "It's going to destroy everything in its path!"

"We don't know that for sure," Xavier countered. "There is a lot of information about the Spiderkey that we don't have. We can't destroy it until we're sure!"

I bit my lip. That was true. But hadn't we been taught to minimize the damage done around us, and to protect those who couldn't do it themselves? The Spiderkey was going to kill people if it was just allowed to run around. We had to do something to stop it.

But then again... that was what Magneto wanted to do...

I pressed my knuckles against my temples. Fine then. Xavier wanted to keep it alive, then that's what we'll do.

"Surround it," Cyclops ordered. "Jean, try and stop it with TK. Beast, Loki, Bobby, immobilize it as best you can."

I ran around it - it was moving forward at a slow, but steady pace - and planted my feet, holding one hand out. Silver winds writhed in my palm and I let it loose, trying to slice off the legs. But they either weren't sharp enough, or the winds just dissipated on contact, because it did nothing.

Each one of Magneto's little goons took their turn trying to off the thing. Colossus leaped on it and tried to bash it on the head, but it shook him off. Pyro attempted to set the entire thing aflame, but it was chemically resistant to combustion, because it wiggled once and the flames dropped to the ground. From freaking nowhere Sabertooth appeared, clawing at its underbelly. Again, no dice.

It was heading towards what looked like a pier. I wasn't going to be able to do much, as I'd already proven. But I took another shot, this time aiming at what I assumed to be its head.

The Spiderkey stumbled, crushing a car. I winced. I couldn't pay for that.

People were starting to show up much more than I wanted. They were running around, screaming, pointing, and a few of the less intelligent ones were snapping away with cameras. I herded them away, keeping an eye out. It was on the move, towards the water.

Not. Good.

There was a screech of tires on the open road and a red blur shot past me, a glimpse of wide maroon eyes in the driver's seat, and then Gambit's borrowed bus rammed into the side of the Spiderkey. He climbed out, scuttling across the roof, and it began to glow a light pink.

"Hit de deck!" Gambit shouted, and dived.

The bus exploded. Shrapnel sliced through my uniform - and me - like butter. I was bleeding, but that didn't matter, because the spider was in the water now, and Bobby was icing the thing in place. Magneto floated over, Angel landing slightly in front of me to stop and gape at the fire.

I saw my chance. Narrowing my eyes, I held both hands out, the silver a massive ball at my fingertips. A battlecry escaped from my lips. Magneto picked up the smoldering remains of the bus and threw it up, using his magnetic grasp to give gravity a boost.

I let my winds go at the same time the wreckage came in contact with the green back. The ice cracked, floes going free, but the Spiderkey flickered and slowly disappeared, leaving the shattered remains of the rocks floating on a wedge of ice.

"Yes!" I shouted, pumping my fist. "Take that, you damn thing!"

Magneto turned to me, an indulgent and lazy smile on his face. "Good work, Tempest," he said warmly. "Your power and control has grown greatly since we first crossed paths."

I stiffened slightly, but I'm not one to turn down a compliment. "Thanks," I said, somewhat shortly.

I heard the firing of a small motor and turned, seeing Xavier roll up. His face was a blank slate, but his knuckles were bone white.

"That was a foolish thing to do, Eric, Loki," he said gravely. "I discovered Mesmero attempting to escape, and was able to read his surface thoughts. He played you, Eric. The spider was a guardian to the key, and now the guardian is dead. Apocalypse will rise again if the third key is discovered and used, and you two are the reason he is one step farther in his plans!" By the end, he was shouting, and I was cowering.

I followed my instincts and helped destroy the spider, and I only made things worse. I sank to my knees.

"You are on probation, Tempest," Xavier said in a deadly quiet tone. "No more missions. Until you learn to follow the orders of your team leader, you will not participate at all." He rotated the wheelchair to the silent and concrete-still Magneto. "I would ask you to stop corrupting my students," Xavier began frostily, "but I respect your free will. If Loki chooses to join your Acolytes, then so be it. But until he does so, _enough_."

He jerked one hand in the direction of the jet. I slunk off, following behind Beast and the rest of the gang, all of who were giving me dark looks.

Awesome. So we can add 'letting loose this Apocalypse guy' to my infinite list of screw-ups. I jogged up the ramp and buckled myself into the back seat, focusing my gaze on the slowly diminishing buildings beneath us.

"X-Men," Xavier began sometime over the ocean, "I know that we did not do as we had hoped. The Spiderkey was an ancient relic - a key, the second of three - and though our best efforts were given, we could not stop the destruction of its guardian."

I swear, every pair of eyes swung onto me at that moment. How I wished my power could just be invisibility, or being able to disappear when I was ashamed enough.

"Apocalypse is a powerful mutant of old. It is imperative he never be released. We must watch for the final key. If Apocalypse were to ever be set loose, our world would be changed forever. Thank you for your efforts."

Silence.

I am a failure. I have spent my time here trying to make a good life for myself, but I have undone everything because I'm so fucking stupid and arrogant. I'd rather listen to Magneto - who has desecrated the body of my father (even if I do hate him), who has tried to corrupt me time and again, who messed with my hands and my mind and has touched almost every aspect of my self - than Xavier, the man who took me in and gave me a home. I'd rather destroy something than protect it.

When we arrived back at the mansion, I slunk off to my room. I forced myself to go to sleep and dream. I deserved it. And when no one spoke to me the next week, I didn't blame them. I deserved it.

I kept myself in forced isolation unless it was absolutely necessary not to do so. I was on probation, so DR sessions were out, leaving me with almost no interaction besides meal times, which I avoided.

I was determined to take my punishment, self-given and otherwise. I was too proud and stubborn to do so otherwise.

Even if it killed me, I would earn back their trust. I didn't want to join Magneto. So all I could do was try.

* * *

**A/N: **Yay, new chapter. Thanks to you who've reviewed for me, I love you all. Seriously. Chocolate and sci-fi novels for everyone. Nothing new to note; nice and quiet on the home front. This was one of my favorite chapters to write, I think. I just love doing the Loki-Magneto interactions, I hope he's not too out of character. I don't own, don't sue, you know the drill. If you want to leave some feedback, or tell me your opinion about my idea for a movie-verse sequel, leave a review. And then, until next time, peace.


	40. Everyone, Let's Be Emo!

I think, somewhere, Something is laughing at me. I'm not going to say God - atheist, remember? - but most definitely Something. Yeah, the captial letter is very much intended.

So I screwed up big time. Took Magneto's and my own advice and destroyed the stupid spider. Now the big shot ancient Apocalypse (and with a name like that, I can only worry) is one unlocked lock away from walking the earth and probably killing us all. Awesome. Not big news, not at all.

What I didn't know, however, was that Xavier had bought tickets way back in spring for the entire household to go on a cruise to celebrate the summer ending, some of the original teenage X-Men becoming seniors in high school... and, apparently, my birthday.

Yeah. So, under better circumstances, I would have been partying hard with Grace and my housemates on a jumbo ship somewhere in the Caribbean. As it turns out, though, I get to sulk out of their line of sight while I'm under glorified house arrest. No friends, no fun, no nothing. Congratulations, Loki, you're seventeen and any family you might have gained now thinks you're attempting to stab them in the back.

I'd been forcing myself to sleep every night, which was a lot harder than it sounded. I figured I deserved the nightmares. Though they'd turned from me violently murdering those I held close to apocalyptic visions of the future, it didn't make me sleep any better. Spec-freakin'-tacular.

I was laying on my bed in my tiny little cabin, counting the ceiling tiles for the fourth time since I'd stopped flicking blades of wind at them. Guilty feelings or no, I was still a healthy male, and still tended to get bored when my attention was being held by absolutely nothing.

There was a light knock on my door and I muttered, "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."

Miss Ororo poked her head through, a solemn look on her face. I could tell she was fighting off a gentle smile at my words, though. "I was wondering if you'd like to come out on the main deck and get some sun," she explained. "You are rather pale."

"I don't tan, I roast." But I stood up anyway and tugged my shirt off, slipping on some flip-flops and making sure my watch was still on my wrist where it belonged. Miss Ororo opened the door wider and stepped back, letting me cross the threshold. I locked it behind me and she led on.

I could feel my cheeks burning as we passed people walking back to their rooms. I was tall, thin, and gangly. Almost no muscle anymore, because I kept forgetting to eat and I didn't have the DR to keep me looking fit (not like I was before, though). Pale as a ghost, because I always tried to keep to myself and that meant staying inside when the others went out on the grounds. Thus, I was more skin and bones than anything else.

We emerged from the halls onto the deck and into the bright sunshine. Shading my eyes, mindful of my adult watcher, I made especially sure to sit as far away from the group as possible. I curled up into a ball, feeling the sun warm my shoulders.

I drifted into a hazy place full of half-formed nightmares and laughing faces. It was only when a cold wind dusted across my bare back and I was suddenly in the shade did I stir.

"Whazzat?" I slurred. Blinking furiously to get rid of the images dancing behind my eyelids, I stood and winced as the sunburnt skin pulled taut. I turned to see what had interrupted my nap and my jaw dropped.

It was iceberg.

In the water.

In the water that had to be at least eighty degrees there was a freaking _iceberg._

And they say _I'm _irresponsible.

My eyes narrowed into slits that promised death to the Ice Boy that decided to screw around. For one single instant, I completely forgot that I was two short jumps away from being homeless and focused solely on kicking Bobby's ass.

Then reality smashed back in and I cast a hesitant glance over my shoulder to Miss Ororo, who was watching me with interest.

I didn't move for a minute.

"Are you going to do something?" she said mildly. "Usually if Bobby does something you are one of the first to reprimand him."

"It's not my place," I muttered quietly.

"If you insist on ostracizing yourself, it only reinforces the idea that treating you differently is correct," Miss Ororo said calmly. "You might as well. Saves me the trouble." And with that, she pulled a pair of over-large sunglasses from her bag and put them on her face, leaning back on the chaise lounge with a contented sigh.

I blinked once or twice and stood, slowly and cautiously making my way towards the front of the ship. I could see a trio of clustered figures near the very tip, one of them being dumbass-Bobby and the other two being weeny-Amara and bitch-Tabitha.

Not yelling at three people who deserve it really is more difficult than it should be. I swallowed the angry words that lodged in my throat and instead began with a slow, "What the hell are you doing?"

It was even at a reasonable level volume-wise. I am getting better at this.

"Trying to cheer up Amara," Bobby said without turning around. "She's not feeling too well, so I thought I'd - oh." He'd peered over his shoulder and met my apathetic gaze. Suddenly he smirked wickedly. "So, they let you out of your cage, huh?"

"It's hardly a cage." I shrugged, barely concealing a wince. I wasn't lying when I said I don't tan, I roast. Thirty minutes in the sun (with a bit of sunscreen, because I'm not a total idiot) had left my back red as Jean's hair. "Much too comfy for one, if you ask me." Well, not really, but I wasn't about to announce that.

"So," Bobby said conversationally, and now Tabitha and Amara were paying attention too, and I wanted to go crawl back in a hole somewhere. It was like being new at the mansion all over again. "Are you gonna yell at me again or are you just here for the view?"

"I'm not here to yell." I pointed overboard to the icebergs. "I just want you to stop being so freaking stupid. Mutants aren't exactly public friend number one, and showing off like this is bound to attract the wrong kinds of attention."

"I can do whatever I want," Bobby bragged, and screwed up his face, taking a deep breath. Before I could stop him, he'd flung his hands over the side and poured the chilly blue beam of power into the water. Not fifty feet ahead of the boat was suddenly a hunk of ice that spelled 'ha ha' in frigid letters. "See? I pulled a Titanic!" Smiling widely, now, he leaped on top of the bow and held his arms wide.

Two seconds later, I grabbed his shorts and furiously pulled him back onto the deck. Ignoring the pained yelp he gave, I grabbed his shoulders and brought his face close to mine.

"Congratulations," I hissed. "You've just made an iceberg the size of a small hill. A ship this size can't turn on a dime, you fucking idiot! We're hours away from any land at all, and if we sink, it's _all your fault_! Loss of life and property included!"

I threw him away as he blanched, closing my eyes and gathering my own power into the palms of my hands. Since I discovered the best way to make a monster beam is to combine the blast from both hands, I've decided that's going to be my main attack. Once I'd gathered enough frothing silver winds, I swung around to gain some momentum and let loose.

The blade swung clean, biting deeply into the iceberg and sending cracks racing along the sides. With a shudder and a loud boom, it slowly - really slowly - began to crumble into the sea.

Apparently someone below deck decided the pace wasn't quick enough either, and a red lance of energy blasted out, blowing off another large chunk. Thanks, Scott. At least we know where you are now. With Jean, valiantly awaiting some sign of danger so you both can leap into the fray and be heroes again.

I turned, panting, to see Bobby still on the deck, eyes wide, and Tabitha holding onto a fistful of marbles. Amara, though, just looked seasick.

"T-thanks, Loki," Amara said after a second. Bobby shot her a mutinous look, but didn't disagree. Tabitha tossed her bombs into the ocean and started a low conversation with the other girl, which I ignored. Instead I knelt down next to the idiot.

"You might be powerful," I said quietly, "but that doesn't make you anything less than a child with a dangerous weapon. Start using that thing in between your ears every now and then, alright?"

Silence. Honestly, you grow a backbone after a month of being a recluse and suddenly everyone starts thinking you're a body snatcher or something.

Well, the rest of the day was pretty quiet after that. Miss Ororo was really proud that I'd done what I had, because she had seen the iceberg and knew what Bobby was up to, and blah blah blah I did the right thing blah. I even managed to work up the nerve to eat in the dining hall (albeit in a corner, but progress is progress).

I slept again that night. Or tried to, at least. Mostly it was just me laying in bed staring at the walls. Such a disgusting shade of peach, if you ask me, especially when the moonlight hits it. Just looks like vomit.

Miss Ororo surprised me yet again by waking me up at eight the next morning and cordially inviting me to breakfast with her. I politely refused, and she politely zapped me until I said yes.

Evil, evil woman.

Anyways, I was now sitting in the middle of a throng of people (trying not to jump out of my skin after being around only a few people every day for the past four weeks) picking restlessly at the muffin on my plate. Miss Ororo sat across from me, perusing a paper and nibbling at her fruit.

"This grapefruit is far too sour," a loud, nasal voice proclaimed. I jumped six inches off my chair. "And the sugar is brown. Honestly! Are they trying to give me a heart attack? Who knows what goes into these calorie bombs they call pancakes..."

And on and on. Her complaints were endless. My knuckles turned bone-white as my grip on the fork tightened.

"Relax," Miss Ororo advised. "Some people are so desperate for attention, they will insult even the simplest of things."

"I'm going to punch her in the face if she doesn't shut up soon," I muttered in response. Another small smile, but she tossed her hair over her shoulder and continued reading.

I wasn't the only one to share that sentiment. Angry, irritated murmurs spread around me like ripples in a pond. And then, not ten minutes after I'd noticed the complaining woman...

_Boom!_

I whirled around in my seat. What I witnessed in the next twenty or so seconds made my jaw drop.

Remember the machines that are super complicated that only do something small for all the effort put into it? A Rube Goldberg machine, I think it's called? Imagine that with a pack of mutants and twice as many normal adults all crammed together in a dining room on a ship.

Tabitha had launched a marble into that woman's breakfast. It exploded, startling the busboy behind her, making him lose his grip on the tub full of dishes. They went flying outwards, beaning someone in the head, making them stumble forward, hitting Jamie, making him suddenly become ten people, which filled the space between him and the buffet table nicely, making the table take a nose-dive and knocking over the trays, starting a fire.

Our end result: panic.

Spectacular.

I immediately stood and started pushing empty tables away from the creeping flames. My winds were useless here; they'd only feed the fire instead of put it out. So I took away what it could burn.

All of Xavier's crew refrained from freaking out, which was good, because there was a crush of people running around without a purpose, so any help we could get was awesome. I was clearing tables away, Scott was keeping an eye on the fire, Miss Ororo was a step away if things got out of hand (they have a policy of letting us handle things, to teach a lesson; stupid, if you ask me, because letting us alone only spelled trouble) and Jean was floating a lobster tank over to put it out.

Well, until Kurt popped out on top of it and she dropped it in her surprise. Completely reasonable reaction, too, I'd jumped a foot into the air when the 'bamf' sounded.

The tank hit the floor with a horrible sound of crunching glass and silent lobster screams. All the water which had previously been in said tank was now floating around our ankles, and, as I discovered by backpedaling furiously and tripping over a chair, soaking through clothes and other important things on people.

Like watches that give your mutant face a human one so you can go out in public without being stoned.

There was a puff of acrid smoke and my ears popped off my head. Twenty feet away, Kurt's image fizzled out with a crackle and he was kneeling in six inches of water, shaking droplets out of his very blue fur. Just as I was blinking my very silver eyes and running a hand through my very white hair.

"Mutants!" someone shouted.

Well, shit.

Miss Ororo calmly interceded and pulled us the hell out, gathering everyone and escorting us outside to one of the more secluded decks. When all of us managed to calm down (meaning, stop panicking now that everyone on the ship knew we were freaks) she sighed heavily and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm not going to say I'm disappointed," she said slowly. "You did exactly as you were trained to do: act in a calm and rational manner and begin taking steps to solve the problem. However, the methods you chose to go about doing such a thing were vastly inappropriate for this setting." She rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers and let out a slow breath. "There is nothing we can do to rectify the situation. We will just have to keep to ourselves as best we can and not get in any more trouble." The glare Miss Ororo gave Tabitha was legendary, and the blonde whithered under the look.

"What do we do now?" Jamie said quietly.

"Enjoy our cruise while it lasts," Miss Ororo said firmly. "No sense in shutting ourselves away because of one mistake."

I flinched as every pair of eyes suddenly found their way to me and my exposed face.

Shut up. The circumstances were so different it wasn't even funny. Even if she did make a good point, I'd still betrayed my team by taking Magneto's orders instead of Xavier's. I deserved everything I put upon myself. Hell, the Professor still hasn't let me back into DR sessions!

Speaking of, if he ever does put me back in, they're going to kill. I'm so out of shape.

She didn't have much to say after that, just a firm warning not to let anything the humans said get to us. We broke ranks quickly; Jean linked hands with Scott (gag) and they disappeared like wraiths; I somehow found myself tagging along as Bobby and his little gang climbed the stairs to get to the main deck (I made a quick stop to my room to grab a working watch. Just because they've seen my face doesn't mean I want to parade it around). I assumed they were thinking of swimming, so I contented myself with images of holding them all under until the bubbles stopped floating upwards and they apologized as zombies for their idiocy.

I've never liked any of the New Mutants. And it was cathartic. So there.

Somehow I forced myself to focus on my peeling shoulders instead of the furious game of Marco Polo taking place between the NM and what was left of the original X-Men. Of course, Kitty kept letting Bobby phase through her as she giggled madly, so it was no surprise to me when he opened his eyes to find himself eye-level with her chest. The resulting choas brought a faint smile to my face.

One that, unfortunately, was quickly banished as ice-cold smoothie was suddenly poured down my back.

"Oh," the man sneered. "I'm sorry." He snickered behind his hand as he walked away, unable to see the way I hissed and bared my teeth at him.

I locked my eyes on his back and watched as he waded into the shallow end of the pool, doing a front crawl back and forth. Without taking my eyes off the bastard, I felt around me for my towel.

My hands only met open air. I relented in my asshole-watching activity and glanced over my shoulder towards my pile o' stuff I'd dumped on the chaise lounge when I'd arrived.

Gone. All of it. My towel, my shirt, my shoes. I had the sudden and burning urge to curl into a strawberry-scented ball and cry. When was it ever going to end? First I'm bodily injured, now my stuff is being stolen.

Thankfully I wasn't that far gone into my psychotic episode because I didn't start wailing my sorrows to the uncaring world at large, which meant I was partially paying attention when Bobby sank into the deep end, flashed blue for a moment, and everyone in the pool suddenly yelped and began flailing around to get out.

Sneaky little bastard. He froze the pool, just for us.

If I wasn't still pissed at him for the iceberg thing, I'd congratulate him.

The other people must have been saying stuff, because normally our group has more self control. But I could see the way Kitty's shoulders were hiked up below her ears, the way Tabitha was mechanically slapping water at a downcast Kurt, and how generally bummed the rest of our crew was. So I didn't comment as Bobby's head broke the surface of the water with a smug smile firmly in place, nor did I say anything as the X-Men found themselves chilled out of the pool as well.

I give him points for effort.

I rolled my shoulders and shuddered as I felt the concoction crack. It was turning into some kind of gummy mess and I wanted to go shower right now and get it the hell off. Knowing my luck, it's full of that damn Pow-R8 stuff. But since my senses haven't gone haywire, I'm going to temporarily assume I'm good.

Giving Bobby a minute nod (and ignoring his surprised look) I slipped away and made for my room. Once the door was unlocked I tore off my shorts and hopped into the shower, cursing my limited flexibility as I struggled valiantly to remove the dry smoothie mess on my back.

Fifteen minutes of intense and painful scrubbing, I was down a layer of skin, but I was clean. My towels were thankfully still in the little bathroom and I took one, rubbing it all over my head and body before tossing it onto the floor.

"'Oh'," I said in a high voice, miming dumping a bucket of seaweed down that jerk's back. "'I'm sorry'. Just lost my grip, that's all."

Smirking, I flopped onto my bed, intent on relaxing away such a stressful encounter, but a loud beep broke me out of my trance. Swearing a blue streak, I sat up, wincing as my abdominal muscles protested their lack of use.

"Due to unforeseen circumstances," a booming voice said, "we will be arriving at the island of San Sebastian. The weather has been unpredictable and unstable as of late, forcing us to moor ahead of schedule. We apologize for the inconvenience and hope the rest of the cruise will be sufficient."

Well, isn't that wonderful. Our next stop was supposed to be the Bahamas where we were going to get a hotel for a night and be whisked back to grungy New York a la Blackbird. But alas, all good plans go to shit like that.

The weather... huh. I wonder if Miss Ororo had anything to do with that. Oh well. Best not to pry. Still not in everyone's good graces; I'd hate to say something wrong and make them hate me more.

So I waited, and waited, and waited. Flicked blades at the walls, spelled out my name, did just about whatever I could think of for as long as I could stand it. Which turned out to be an hour and a half. Which was good.

My brain is dribbling out of my ears. I can feel it. The only thing that saved me was a quiet knock on my door. Standing and staggering over, I answered it with a bleary face.

"Want to come to the island with us?" I blinked, swiped at my eyes, and blinked again. Bobby's face didn't disappear.

"Uh, why?"

"Cause you've been a hermit ever since the spider thing and you're being too hard on yourself." He flashed me a quick, understanding smile. "I make lots of stupid decisions, but I accept what I did and move on. You're always ragging on me because I never think things through and show off. But I take that and try and fix it. When someone criticizes you or you make a bad decision, you act like it's the end of the world. Honestly, we haven't been mad at you for a month now. You just are so wrapped up in your little world we don't try and get you out."

My jaw dropped. Could you blame me? This little punk has caused me no small amounts of misery in the past, but here he is, giving me lifetime advice. And... it was good advice, too, I grudgingly admitted. I was always harder on myself than I let other people be, because that way, if I missed my own goals, their's would still be obtainable. The whole shoot for the moon thing, essentially.

"Alright," I muttered. I blindly grabbed a shirt from my bag and tugged it on, stuffing my wallet in my pocket. If Grace couldn't come, the least I could do was pick her up something nice. I slid through the door, locked it behind me, and followed behind Bobby at a reasonable difference.

I was doing the right thing by separating myself. Magneto's made me a target of his for the time being. No telling when he'd get bored of chasing after a powerful-ish mutant who doesn't want anything to do with him. And I was stupid, so I deserved it.

But Bobby said they weren't mad. Or, at the very least, had been mad for a while but were now over it.

This is so confusing.

I was still contemplating my purpose in life when Bobby led us down to the lowest level of the boat still open to the outside. Tabitha and a sick-looking Amara were there too; he exchanged some quiet words with them and then held his hand over the edge, channeling his power into creating a canoe-sized craft for us to travel in.

I helped the girls in first, making sure Amara wasn't about to puke on me, and Bobby swiftly followed. Once we were all settled in he froze himself a paddle and we were off.

I shivered violently, my teeth chattering. Stupid effing blood. I can't even ride in an ice canoe without feeling lethargic.

Fifteen minutes of hard paddling later and we pulled ashore onto a sandy beach. I leaped out and sighed happily as my toes sank into the warm sand. When I heard giggling behind me I snapped out of my stupor and whirled around, blushing.

"Gee, Loki," Bobby teased, "I didn't know you had a thing for sand in your toes. Better tell Grace that before you get too serious, eh?"

I punched him, but he just laughed anyway.

The island was home to a quaint little tourist trap town. I wandered ahead of the three younger mutants, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious looking. All along the paved road there were stalls, vendors, people chattering and shouting wares and haggling loudly. There were bright colors everywhere in the form of hats, shirts, shorts, skirts, and head-sized flowers.

"What?" I jumped, turned, and ran fluidly through the crowd back to my charges, where Tabitha was holding a straw hat and pointing incredulously at the price tag. "You've gotta be kidding me! There's no way a piece of crap like this can be this expensive!"

The man - big moustache but completely bald - snorted. "You don't like, don't buy," he said in a thickly accented voice. "Otherwise, put down and leave."

"Well, what if I want this hat, but not at this price?" Tab said furiously. She shook the offending headgear in his face. "It's poorly made! It's worth half - no, a third of what you're asking for!"

"Good to see she's just as cheerful as ever," a dry, familiar voice muttered. I peered over my shoulder to see Scott tilting his head to the side, which meant he was rolling his eyes. You learn these things after a while. "What're you doing here?" he asked a bit louder.

"Amara's not feeling well," Bobby said. As if in agreement, Amara wobbled a bit. She looked better, but still like she was about to blow chunks. "We were going to take her up to a hot spring. Want to come?"

Jean lifted one perfect brow and shook her head. "Just stay out of - come on, that's just ridiculous." She let out an exasperated breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. "We were supposed to get some private time together out here," she said, clearly annoyed. "Did anyone bother to stay on the boat?" Jean extended one finger and pointed just past us.

Kurt and Kitty were poking around a stall, Kitty laughing loudly as Kurt piled the flower necklaces around his neck until you couldn't see his face. I just shrugged.

"No harm, no foul." I motioned with my head for the three to go on ahead. "I'll stay here with Scott and Jean," I said sweetly, catching their combined murderous expressions. "Just don't do anything stupid, alright?" They huffed but agreed.

Ah, sweet normalcy.

"What's gotten into you, Loki?" Jean quizzed as she ran her fingers over a shell bracelet. "You're acting a lot more... cheerful."

Besides getting talked down to by a kid three years younger than me? I grew a pair, finally, and I'm going to deal with my mistake instead of hoping to hide from it and the world.

"I got some good advice from someone and decided to hell with it. I made a mistake, I'll deal. But I'm not going to shut myself away any more. It's not healthy."

Silence. I peeked out from under my lashes and saw her grin, then just as quickly wipe it off and replace it with a thoughtful expression. "That's... good," she said vaguely. "It's about time, too. This means I owe Scott fifteen bucks."

My eyebrows rose. "You had a bet going for when I'd get some sense knocked into me?" I said. The obnoxious orange skirt I'd been looking at suddenly couldn't hold my attention.

She shrugged. "Well, we were all really mad at you for about a week and a half, until Scott mentioned that he really wanted to destroy the spider too. So we figured if it wasn't just you being brainwashed by Magneto, then it was an honest mistake. And we forgave you. But you stayed away from us, and we could all hear you scream at night. We wondered if you were ever going to get on with your life. So we made a pool." Jean turned to put a flower thing over Scott's head, pecking him on the cheek. "Scott said within a week of your birthday. So I guess he wins."

"That's good news," he said dryly. "I'm running low on cash since someone keeps buying all this stuff." It was true; his arms were loaded with various articles of clothing and jewelry.

Underneath our very feet, the ground rebelled and sprang upwards. I let out an undignified shriek as the tremor continued and I was knocked to the shaking ground. Bits of the little shop were falling all around me, some of the pieces looking especially sharp. I rolled away and pushed myself up, managing to pull a young woman out of the way of a falling tree just before it hit the ground where we would have been.

I could hear the voices of the X-Men behind me. As I watched, Kurt 'ported into a collapsing building, pulling out a young father and his son. Amara and Tabitha blasted the doors off a turned-over van, pulling out three more people. I kept low to the ground so I was a little more stable that way and crept over to where Scott and Jean were. I could feel the chill exuding from Bobby as he froze a section of balcony, letting the trapped man slide down to safety.

The two oldest members of our - their - team stood side by side, watching as rocks and mud began to creep down the side of a mountain - how the hell did I miss a frigging mountain, for Pete's sake? - and pick up speed and debris on its way.

"Jean, pick up the big rocks and move them out of range." Jean nodded. "Loki, start carving diverting channels into the ground. If we get deep enough, it might just sink in there instead." I bit my lip and held out my hands, swinging them back and forth in rhythmic motions as the silver wind began gouging out portions of the land.

Scott's beams only added to my job; with Jean getting rid of the most destructive implements, it was only mud that hit our crack. It sank in, flowing outwards, draining and diverting around the little town in a few tense minutes.

The sudden scare left me breathless. Literally. I fished around in my pockets for an inhaler and took a couple of puffs as we looked upon the scene of destruction with grim eyes.

"So," I wheezed, after a moment, "what the hell caused that?"

"Um." Bobby stepped into our line of sight. I narrowed my eyes. And after we'd come to such an understanding earlier today, too. Shame I'm going to have to beat him.

He opened his mouth to continue, but then I felt a warm hand on my arm and I was distracted. Very distracted, in fact, because the hand was attached to a beautiful young woman who smiled shyly and gave me a kiss on my cheek. My entire face flamed with a blush.

"Thank you," she said. "You saved my life."

My mouth worked for a moment, but no sound came out. "Ah, well, uh, you're welcome, I guess." She giggled, batting her eyes, and they were so dark, even more than Grace's. Grace! I gave myself a firm mental shake and put some distance between us.

"We will have a celebration for you and your friends," she said loudly. Around us, everyone cheered and began gathering up their goods.

The next few hours passed in a blur. It was so weird, you know? We used our powers in front of them and instead of being ostracized, we were hailed as heroes. Honestly, it felt really damn good. There were even a few more girls clumping together when I walked past, giggling behind their hands, and occasionally running up to give me a fruit or glass of juice if I looked hungry or thirsty.

We helped everyone get their marketplace back into some semblance of order and then we were escorted to another place, through a grove of palm trees and out onto a sandy beach. There was an enormous place set up under one of those roof on stilts things with a giant table positively groaning under all the food on it. My mouth watered.

The X-Men ate ourselves into a stupor. Despite my reservations, I was pulled into a few dances, though I had to hastily explain I was already in love with another woman back home to a few over-eager natives who wanted to kiss me senseless. For the first time in a long time, I was really freaking happy.

So, naturally, the mountain had to start rumbling again, though it died off just as fast.

"What was that?" I said to Scott. We were both sitting at a corner table, watching as the younger kids had the time of their lives being treated like people and not like stupid animals.

"The volcano." He tensed. "I talked to Amara earlier. She's convinced that it's her fault the volcano's active again."

I scrunched my face up. "What?" He opened his mouth to explain, but a few things happened at the same time.

First, the previously clear sky above the cruise ship off in the distance suddenly darkened and lightning forked out. Second, the volcano positively exploded. Third, everyone proceeded to panic.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course," I muttered sarcastically. "The one day we're being treated like heroes, a volcano erupts. Did I kill a baby in my past life or something? That so explains my karma."

We snapped into action immediately after that. I started pounding channels into the ground, watching the creeping lava and feeling the burning heat escalade until I could smell my hair beginning to fry. It hit the grooves I'd carved and flowed over them almost instantly.

"Shit!" I swore. "Scott!" I shouted. "No-go on the channel!"

He gritted his teeth and motioned for me to go start evacuating people to a higher ground. I exchanged rapid words with the most geographically knowledgable of the lot and motioned for everyone to start following him. The lava was moving at a snail's pace, but things three feet away were spontaneously combusting, so getting close was a definite bad thing.

I acted like a group bodyguard for the trek. If any lava or rocks or frightened animals decided to attempt to cut a swathe through the people, I was right there, cutting a tree to block it off for a few extra seconds or batting the debris out of the air or cutting the thing's throat so it couldn't hurt ayone. I felt like a ninja. Or a good guy, once again.

We finally stopped along a ridge about half a mile up the mountain, decently far from where the lava was spilling out of the mountain but still close enough that I could smell the burning foliage when the wind blasted across our faces.

"What now?" someone asked.

"We wait," I said grimly.

And wait we did. There was a moment when I panicked; a glowing spot and a white spot were on the lip of the volcano, and though I couldn't hear their voices, I was sure it was Miss Ororo and Amara. I wanted so desperately for them to be safe that I took a step forward and almost fell off the ledge.

Well, what happened in a nutshell next was that Amara calmed the volcano down (because she can control them, apparently, and swim through molten rock like it's water) and Miss Ororo thought she died until the lava started cooling immediately and the younger mutant was shot out like a meteor. Hip hip hooray, we saved them again.

Time for another party.

This time, Miss Ororo and I sat at a table together, me sipping on a coconut beverage and her enjoying some of the fresh fruit. I let out a sigh and felt myself relax a little more than I'd been able to when we'd left for the cruise.

"Are you enjoying your birthday?" she asked. I shrugged. Birthdays weren't really my thing. In fact, I hadn't told anyone that this cruise was over my annual day of birth celebration, so when no one offered me a congrats, I wasn't surprised.

"I guess. The hero thing here was pretty nice, though." I smiled as a girl passed by and waved. "It's nice being treated the way we deserve."

"So you are happy being treated like a person and not like a villain in training." I froze, all my muscles going stiff at once. "It's about time, Loki." She offered me a gentle smile. "Yes, we were unhappy about what you did. Yes, the consequences are a little more harsh because of the circumstances. But placing yourself in forced isolation only hurt you further." A warm breeze ruffled my hair and I grinned. "I'm glad you are acting normally again."

I lifted my coconut and saluted her, a wry smile on my lips.

Yeah, we were going to have to get back on the ship and be treated like crap. But for once, I actually learned something during one of our little adventures. I learned I am capable of forgiving myself, just as others are capable of forgiving me.

With that thought firmly in mind, I downed my drink and made for the dance floor. Best to enjoy what I have while I can.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry it's been so long. ^^; As a reward, you get a monster chapter. Seriously, this is the longest chapter for this story I've ever written. Let's hope Loki takes these lessons to heart, though, eh? No more emo-ness! Huzzah! Thanks for your reviews (let's break a hundred!) and your attention. I don't own X-Men, think about the sequel option, and peace!


	41. No One has Fun when I'm in Charge

I always thought people said your senior year of high school was supposed to be fun.

But, then again, none of them were ever mutants. Which probably explains a lot.

With a heavy sigh, I slid onto the lunch bench next to Grace, glaring at the junior boy who'd sidled up next to her other side. He was a weedy little thing, average hair color, murky brown eyes, and overall had the intelligence of a pea. How did I know this? He was hitting on my girlfriend.

"Back off," I hissed, wishing I could switch the inducer off just to bare my fangs. "She's taken."

He made to retort, but his friend (running interference, I would guess) made a slicing motion across his neck and mouthed the words 'mutant' and 'temper'. The little toe-rag didn't even have the stones to acknowledge that, instead saying in a fake injured tone, "It's a free country. If I want to sit here, you can't stop me."

I could see Grace rolling her eyes, but this was more than just comparing size. This was about humans thinking they could bully me because I was different. I still objected to it, even now, and I proved this very much so by charging a small ball of silver winds and pointing it straight at his crotch.

Weed-boy blanched, mumbled an apology, and skittered off. I threw a smirk over in Grace's direction, met with an amused smile in return, and pulled out my lunch to eat.

"Oh, chivalrous boyfriend," Grace said dramatically, laying her head on my shoulder. "You have saved me yet again from the scourge of pubescent boys everywhere. However may I thank you, kind sir?"

"A kiss wouldn't be so bad," I said, grinning. She obliged, pecking me on the lips quickly, and I drew back, satisfied. "How're you?"

"Good, I suppose." Grace bit into her apple, thoughtful. "Though I wish people would stop thinking we're not together. It's not like we haven't shown them enough evidence to the contrary." I just shrugged, inhaling my sandwich in a few bites. She wrinkled her nose at my table manners, but I didn't care. So I ate like a starving child. Big deal.

"Well, you did get to States for swim," I pointed out. I'd watched that particular meet; Grace had been absolutely fantastic. And the swimming she did wasn't half bad either. "And you're beautiful. So they probably think they have a chance." I tilted my head. "Poor things."

She snorted in a very un-ladylike fashion. "Nice," she said dryly. "So how're you?"

"Ugh," I groaned melodramatically, letting my head fall to the table. "Bad. Sore. Tired."

"But you can't sleep anyways." I shot her a hurt stare.

"Doesn't mean I can't be tired."

"Moving on?"

"Fine." I lifted up the edge of my shirt a little bit, showing her the impressive bruise marring my ribcage. She tensed instantly, brown eyes narrowing. I tugged my shirt back into place and resumed eating. "I'm still running sessions with the brats, instead of my team. Logan really whaled on me this morning. Said my speed wasn't improving, and that he'd make it. Kicked me good and proper, yeah?"

Metal bones make things like that hurt ten times more than it should legally be allowed.

"He should be more careful," Grace muttered through a clenched jaw. Me getting hurt all the time, training or no, was still a bit of a sore spot she held against Xavier. "No one heals like him. It's dangerous for him to go full out like that."

"Not full out, not by a long shot," I shot back. "I'm slow and rusty. He's getting me back into shape. That's all there is to it. Chill out, alright?" I pressed my lips against her cheek, willing her to calm down. She sighed quietly, but didn't untense. I suppose that'll have to do.

Suppose I should take a sec to explain stuff. Well, after I had my little about-face in August, I was kicked to the lowest rung of the training ladder, meaning the New Mutants. They were forced to train under Beast, who normally was a nice fellow, and Logan, who brought a new meaning to the word hell. Moreso with the latter, unfortunately, and since he knew what I was capable of (as a former regular student) he pushed me harder than everyone else.

Combined.

It was the middle of October, now, and while I wasn't back up to my former level of training, I was improving in leaps and bounds. Not enough to get me put back in the toasty and insane DR, but enough that I was now sort of the unofficial leader of the NM due to age and experience.

Not that Bobby didn't try. Poor kid.

Long story short, life is life. Nothing I can do about it.

At least I got to keep my old silver-and-black uniform instead of being required to switch to their black bodysuit with yellow shoulder pads monstrosity thing.

I was about to open my mouth and make another comment about my circumstances when I heard a faint beep. Glancing around, I realized a moment later it was coming from my watch. Damn thing. I thought it had been toasted, but apparently not, which means I still have 'responsibility'. Blech.

Shooting Grace an apologetic glance, I motioned towards my watch. She just quirked a smile at me and nodded, waving me off. I tucked in my lanky limbs to escape from the death trap of public school lunch tables, glared darkly at the kid who was looking like he would go talk to Grace, and strode off towards a secluded place.

My intent didn't stop Duncan and Danny from shoving me into a locker bay on the way to the men's room, but that couldn't be helped. I split their pants open at the seam and had to bite back laughter when I saw their boxers. Embarassing was the least descriptive way I could put it.

Anyways, I slipped through the cracked door and locked myself in the stall farthest from the entrance. Only then did I accept the call. "Tempest here. What's up?"

"We have a situation." I stiffened. Xavier admitting something was wrong was like me admitting I was in emotional distress. It just didn't happen all that often. "Logan has been... escorted by Nick Fury to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters at gunpoint. We are trying to keep everything in order, but many of the younger students are worried. He was running a training session with them at the time."

"You want me to come back to the mansion and help run interference until things get sorted out."

"Correct. I will see you in a few minutes." Without even saying good-bye, he cut the connection. I let out a mumbled stream of curse words as I irritably punched a wall, a small ripple of cracked tile radiating outwards from the point of impact. Some freshman kid took one look at me and bolted. Which was probably a good thing; right now I really wanted to beat on someone.

I'm struggling to graduate on time. Missing class wasn't going to help in the slightest. As it was, I was going to have to pass every class this and the next semester to walk in May. Now thoroughly entrenched in annoyance, I didn't spare a second glance to the slightly frightened looks that followed as I stalked through the halls to the principal's office.

Might as well attempt to do things properly.

I knocked on the door and took a moment to look exceedingly ill. When the secretary called for me to enter, I staggered in, covering my mouth with my hand and exaggerating a retching noise.

"I need to go home," I rasped. "I'm gonna puke and I feel like shit."

She didn't reprimand me for my cussing, just shoved the sign-out sheet in my general direction. I signed with unusual flourish, winking at her despite my 'sickness' and trotting out of the cluttered little office space. Once that was finished, I took off at a slow jog towards the parking lot, where a taxi was waiting. Kind of bummed I wouldn't be driving, I plopped down and grumbled out the destination.

The cab smelled strongly like cigarettes and alcohol. It was with great relief that I stepped out ten minutes later, not even concerned with paying him (Xavier probably had done so before anyway), gravel crunching under tires as the vehicle peeled out of the driveway of the famous mutant school. I rolled my eyes. Humans. What weenies.

Nothing seemed all that wrong. The mansion wasn't a pile of smoking ruins. There weren't bodies lying around. Blood hadn't made the ground squishy. This all, of course, coming from my lovely nightmares. In fact, the sun seemed awfully cheerful, beating down on our heads and making it unseasonably warm.

Why the hell would he call me home? Why not Scott, or Jean? Hell, if he wants me to hold the New Mutant's hands while they go through their next crisis, I am going to punt Xavier's bald ass to California.

I eased the door open, paranoia making me glance around first before putting my body in the way. Still nothing. I pushed the wooden monstrosity open all the way and walked slowly into the foyer, turning my head left and right. Nothing. He made me skip school and Grace for nothing.

Bet I could cut his wheels into squares. See how he likes clomping around with that.

"I'm not sure if the design would allow movement at all," Xavier said in his customary mild voice, "but it is an interesting thought nonetheless."

I whirled around, having the good grace to look sheepishly at my feet.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"It is quite alright. I understand you are frustrated." Course you do, genius. "And I plan to help you with the problem as soon as we have cleared up the matter with Logan and Mr. Fury." He gestured me to follow behind him as he started up his little motor and headed for the ramp that would take us back outside. Clamping down on my unpleasant thoughts towards the man with the capability to reduce me to the mentality of a four year old girl, I trotted demurely behind.

"Beast," Xavier called. Within a couple seconds a giant furry mass of blue swung into the sky, flipping once, and landed in front of us.

"Points off," I muttered sullenly. "Didn't stick the landing."

Dr. McCoy stuck his tongue out at me before crooking a finger. "He's here to help finish the exercise, then?"

Xavier nodded. My jaw dropped. I couldn't help but yell, "You pulled me out of school to mess with those brats? What the hell!"

I was furious. I had school to think about! I wanted to walk with Grace and take stupid pictures with her in our robes and... be normal, for once. Scott and Jean couldn't fail if they tried, but I'm the screw-up. I'm the one who can't depend on things to stay stable. They just don't.

"Fine," I said icily. "But don't come crying to me when your mutants come back black and blue."

Stupid effing Professor had the nerve to smile at me and Beast, before waving and scooting back inside like nothing was wrong. I didn't even bother to go back to my room and change into training gear. I had power now; Xavier was going to regret giving me a hand in the training today.

I stalked down the steps and onto the cobblestone path, bringing my fingers to my lips and blasting out a sharp whistle. It took a couple minutes, but I soon had a ragged array of children in front of me. They all proceeded to give me a look that would have better graced someone with two heads.

Not that I'm not expecting to see that sometime too.

"Listen up," I said coldly. "Logan's been abducted-" gasps "-Xavier's losing his marbles-" eye rolls "-and I'm helping Beast with the rest of your exercises today." This time, Amara actually took a step back. Maybe that's because I had shut off my inducer during my little explanation and was now glaring at them with silver eyes.

"To start off, fifty push-ups. Then run around the mansion ten times. And when you come back, fifty more, and add one hundred crunches. Anyone who asks me to repeat that-" I think his name is Roberto (he's like Amara but with the sun instead of lava) swallowed a little and blanched "-will be doing the entire set again. See you in a bit."

When none of them moved, I swung my hand around and let loose a blade that actually clipped a few heads. Good thing I decided sharp wasn't the way to go. Hit the dull children with a dull blade, yeah? Well, it made sense to me.

"Don't you think you're being a little hard on them?" Beast said quietly once they'd done their meager push-ups and were puffing around the mansion slowly. I shrugged.

"Much as I don't think about it-" except for what I dream, which isn't pleasant "-we do currently have a large threat by the name of 'Apocalypse' hovering over our heads. I'd say that's a bad thing. Best to get them going now so we don't have to cram everything in later."

"If only you could do the same with your homework," the blue furred man sighed melodramatically. I pouted childishly, crossing my arms over my chest. Much as I knew what he said to be the truth.

Yes, I am blaming Xavier more than I blame myself. But, to be fair, I expected to flunk out and then just come live here full-time. That was before Grace. So there.

I idled the time the little brats spent doing work chatting inanely with Beast. He was their teacher, of sorts, for just about every subject. He was just getting into the finer parts of one of his exams (recite a monologue from Hamlet while mixing two chemicals and getting the proper reaction) when the bunch collapsed to the ground, crunches finished.

"Oh, good," I said lazily. "Here I was, wondering if you'd be done before the day was." Every last one of them glared at me, but they were panting too hard to speak. Excellent. "Next we're going to spar a bit, world cup style. Loser - excuse me, winner - has to take me on in a match."

I paired them off with the exact opposite of whomever they chose and spread them out. Beast still didn't make a move to take command, which made me nervous; I was determined to push them too hard so Xavier would never do this to me again. But it wasn't working. Damn.

Watching kids with minimum control over their powers spar had to be one of the most hilarious things I've ever seen in my entire life. Bobby was shooting ice beams everywhere, making him slip just as often as his opponent, some kid shooting sparks. Jamie had stumbled over a rock and was lying in a groaning heap of a dozen other people. Amara was running away from a streak of yellow chasing after her, and Roberto was valiantly trying to put out the grass fires he started while he waited for Jamie to literally pull himself together.

Fifteen minutes later, Sam was making sure Amara didn't have a concussion, Jamie was sobbing in pain as the burn on his arm throbbed, and Bobby was looking guiltily at his feet where Chris lay, hands encased in ice.

"Congratulations," I said dryly. "You've advanced to the next round. Fifty push-ups, one hundred crunches, and five more laps. When you come back, it's every man for himself. Good luck."

Relief flashed across the loser's faces. I decided to take a bit of pity, seeing as they were all injured. I was opening my mouth to give them their assignment when Beast clamped his huge hand around my mouth. Or, more accurately, across my face.

"Yes?" I said. It was muffled, but the man got the gist.

"You're going on them like they're your old team," he reminded me. "They're more used to playing than to working."

Beast slowly removed his palm. I scowled darkly. "And whose fault is that?" I snapped. He didn't say anything, just blinked, but that was almost bad enough, in a way, because he wasn't going to admit he'd spoiled them when we had the beginnings of a war going on. And I wasn't going to admit that I was being a huge-ass hypocrite because I wanted a normal life and yet I was pushing them.

I stood in a silent bubble of anti-social-ness as the three winners duked it out. Roberto was taken out almost instantly when Sam barrelled into him at upwards of a hundred miles an hour, throwing him back into a tree. Bobby and Sam circled around each other for a little bit, throwing a ball of ice here or lunging there.

It wasn't until Bobby mis-stepped and lost his balance did Sam strike; channelling his namesake, he lifted Bobby into the air and tossed him to the ground. Gently, of course. I nodded and clapped slowly as the little runt picked himself from the crater and slumped over, breathing heavily.

"Congratulations," I said to Sam. "Now it's my turn." He stared at me nervously, then settled into a loose stance.

I took the offensive, striking out with a chopping motion. Silver wind blasted out, and it would have sliced him clean in two had he not taken to the air. Instead of wasting my stamina firing at a moving target, I headed off deeper into the woods. Trees flickered past me and a tell-tale whistling reached my ears a second before the physical thing did. I threw myself to the ground, tucking into a roll, letting Sam pass overhead harmlessly.

"Come on," I taunted. "Am I that hard to hit?"

That was the last thing I heard before the entire world went dark.

* * *

I woke up groaning and cursing my luck. Knowing me, I'd have a broken neck or something equally as ridiculous to add to being beaten by a runty little NM. But, to my eternal surprise, when I forced gummy eyes apart, I found not Sam but some random girl standing over me.

Oddly enough, her face was completely contorted into the most frightening expression I've ever seen on a human or mutant in my entire life.

I managed just barely to avoid the axe kick that would have caved in my ribs, flinging myself to the side.

"What the hell?" I shouted, shoving myself to my feet. I held out my hands warningly, letting silver crackle over long-scarred knuckles. "Who the hell are you and why the hell did you do that?"

In response, she popped two claws - my eyes bulged - and blurred towards me, faster than even Kitty, who was the fastest person I knew in combat. I ducked, weaved, dodged, and finally tripped going backwards on a downed branch. The punch that would have speared right through my brain simply left two deep puncture wounds on my forehead, making blood drip almost instantly into my eyes.

I swiped at them, turning the move into a sneak attack forward. She countered with a move I didn't know someone could pull: _she sliced right through the damn blast!_

Gaping impressively like a fish, I kind of deserved getting kicked in the face. The deep slice on my cheek that came from the blade _in her foot_, though, not so much.

My face was throbbing. I couldn't see. This random Wolverine-on-steroids-with-too-many-fucking-blades flipped backwards onto a branch, watching me with malevolent eyes. Her face was still twisted in anger.

"You're just like them," she hissed in a voice higher than I would have expected.

"Who?" Bewildered, injured, I wasn't prepared for when she dived at me, fists plunging forwards to end my life.

Now, it's not the first time I've come close to losing my life. Not even the second or third, I can honestly say, and if that wouldn't make my girlfriend have a coronary, I don't know what would. But the sight of this person bearing down on me chilled me to the bone. I couldn't move. I couldn't think.

I was going to die in this stupid little forest.

Something bigger and heavier than Attacker Chick slammed into my side, taking me down. My head snapped to the side, vision blurring, and I hit the ground hard. Blood flooded my mouth, light and airy, and I rolled over and dry-heaved as the headache clamped along my temples.

I managed to peer up from tear-blurred eyes to see Logan and Attacker Chick going at each other. Though Logan seemed to be taking a beating instead of giving one, which made me worry not only for his health but also for his sanity.

She managed to throw him through a tree and he released his claws, digging up turf to gain ground to roundhouse-kick her in the gut. She swiped at him with her claws, took a stab with the lower one, and he caught her by the wrists, muttering something to her that caused her to shriek in wordless fury.

Her attacks doubled, at that point, and Logan just took them all, though he made sure to keep his body in between me and Attacker Chick at all times. Finally, she seemed to burn out, clutching at his chest and sobbing. He smoothed one hand over her hair, whispering something in her ear, and she held him tighter.

I must have missed something. They went so fast from 'KILL KILL DIE' to 'LOVE HUGS FLOWERS SUNSHINE' that my head spun so hard it stopped.

"Um," I said weakly, "could I maybe get a hand or something here?"

Laying there forlornly in the grass, stars beginning to peek out from twilight's stiff embrace, my request was denied as a small swarm of helicopters suddenly flooded the area. I was suddenly being picked up by Attacker Chick, carried fireman style, and the world shook. We passed a ruined wreck of a fountain, torn up spots of land, steps trailing blood (and burned patches... my fault, stupid bleeding everywhere), shards of the main door, and then just general chaos of the foyer.

She dropped me. Just plain dropped me. And, of course, I landed on my face, splitting my semi-healed cuts and getting more blood on the nice carpet, which proceeded to smoke like Logan while making a strange hissing noise.

"Thanks," I said through yet another mouthful of blood.

"Shut up."

Our first, and last, two words shared. Fantastic. She left, then, brown hair trailing behind her, black suit letting the night swallow her almost completely. I stared with slightly crossed eyes through the wreck of the door, and it was only a couple minutes later that Scott came trailing in. He shouted for help.

I blacked out.

* * *

The second time I woke up, I was in my new/old bed in the infirmary. An IV was taped to the crook of my arm and bandages were crowding my face, making me think dark shadows were in the room before I realized it was just gauze over the corners of my eyes.

Jean was taking care of me. I don't know why. But she did fill me in a bit after she'd noticed I was not unconscious any more.

Turns out Attacker Chick is Logan's female clone with ten times less patience and ten times more pissed-off-ness. It's like some female members of the household PMS-ing with a lifetime of harsh training and adamantium claws at her disposal. Not good.

She was understandably very angry at Logan and decided to clean his clock, until she saw me screwing with the NM, at which point she leaped out and knocked me silly. Sam was still airborne and hadn't seen me dragged away. He had just assumed it was part two to training; when I didn't show, he abandoned ship.

They noticed only when Grace called to talk to me and no one could find me.

How nice, knowing they care.

Basically, she was pissed at me for a second because I was acting like her old trainers, pushing her beyond her limits. There was a lot of yelling and taunting, as I can recall; point is, I got the shit beaten out of me by a Wolverine-clone-on-crack, and now I'm stuck inside while everyone else gets to go play with Beast.

Jean smiled once, ruffled my hair, and after making sure I hadn't bled through my bandages, she slipped out with a flirt of red hair. I huffed, crossing my arms, and pulled my blanket up a little higher to my chin.

So karma doesn't want me to beat on the kids. Big freaking deal. We've got a war on, and some things need to go in favor of everything else. A small part of my brain said, So what? You get the privilege of going through a normal life while they don't?

It wasn't that. I just wanted the one thing. I was still working as hard as they were; they just had the good luck to be taught here while I don't.

That was about the time I noticed the note lying innocently on my bedside table. Dread welled up within me. The last letter I'd received in circumstances like this hadn't... hadn't been the best. I took it with trepidation, clutching my mom's blanket in my off hand, and manhandled the damn thing open.

"_He's pulling me out of school to be tutored here?_"

* * *

**A/N: **Been a long time, eh? I figure if I write a whole slew of chapters now, I won't take for-effing-ever like I did this time. My Thanksgiving break will be used well! :D If anyone wants to talk to me about anything pertaining to the story, feel free to PM me. Even if it is just to remind me to start writing again. Hah.

I wish you all a happy turkey day, and if you don't celebrate it, have a nice regular day! I don't own X-Men (just Loki and Grace), please review, and until next time, peace!


	42. Time Skip and Bad Things Looming Ahead

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

That, ladies and gentlemen, is the sound of an empty skull striking the wall of a jerky mutant's office at four in the morning. Yes, that would be me currently trying to make my brains dribble out of my ears. Why?

Because today is - or would have been - my last day of high school. But, because the Professor is a jerk, I had been pulled out over seven months ago to be personally tutored. That means I'd spend the morning with him working on actual school stuff and then the afternoons working on gaining better control over my powers. Or, as I like to say, getting my ass kicked from one side of the property to the other by Miss Ororo and occasionally Logan.

How I'm going to graduate is so beyond me. I'm only going half-days with school stuff.

And to top it all off, he wouldn't let me finish my easy-peasy classes. No, I had to start working now. Calculus, psychology, biology, advanced writing courses, you name it, he was cramming it into four hours of my day. It well and truly stunk.

Alright, enough whining. (See, I'm even learning how to be a decent person somewhere in there.) I have - ugh - homework to finish by eight today, hence the head injury. But the damn math wasn't making any sense. Calculus is fun and interesting, but not when I'm trying to enjoy the last night I'll have undisturbed. Some people - cough cough KITTY KURT NEW MUTANTS cough - seem to reverse their sleep schedules come summer.

Oh, fun. Back to math.

A faint moan drew my attention and with a silent smile spreading across my face, I set the weighty book down (like it was on fire) and crept to the open door.

Because I, like any sensible mutant, had left it open while perusing Xavier's office. Smart? Hah. Thinking is for the other people in the mansion, not me!

I poked my head out and cupped one hand behind my back, winds swirling in my palm. They didn't cut me, which was the biggest indicator to how far along I'd come, seeing as before any shot I took came with a sizable risk towards injuring myself, too. But it still took a bit of concentration to keep them dull until the last second.

But instead of someone I could beat into a pulp, I found it was just Rogue. She slipped out of a bedroom along the hall and staggered off in the opposite direction, heading towards the rec room. I narrowed my eyes.

Probably just nerves. I wouldn't put it past some of the more vindictive kids at school to try and pull something against the 'evil mutants' on the last day.

Of course, after everything happened, I would look back on this morning and wonder if she hadn't been going towards where I normally hung out, hunting for my offensive and destructive powers.

But that's getting ahead of ourselves.

So after I decided Rogue wasn't doing anything other than going for some t.v. to calm herself I went back to Xavier's office where I was distracted from my doomed venture by a very interesting sci-fi novel (signed by the original author!). I completely lost track of time, too, and it wasn't until a sudden outcry of general panic did I realize what time it was.

I heard a lot of running, screaming, shouting, thunks (fists hitting faces, I can only presume), and doors slamming. I checked my watch. Oh... it was past 8 in the morning. Usually everyone's gone by now.

Hah again. Overslept on today of all days. Sucks for them, yeah?

But it was only when the Professor rolled in half an hour late that I started feeling a bit concerned. Breakfast had been chaos, with people using powers to get food and get out and in the process only making everything worse.

"Is everything alright?" I asked carefully, picking at a seam on the chair. Xavier just nodded distractedly and looked at the creased book on his desk. I sheepishly smiled.

"So you enjoyed this, then?" he questioned. I nodded. "What do you think the ending meant?"

We ended up skipping a lot of the usual work and having a theoretical discussion about the merits of using an allegorical ending versus an ending plain as day. So when lunch rolled around I was more surprised than anything else.

"What about the homework you assigned yesterday?" Xavier gave me one of his smiles that makes me want to kick puppies. It was the kind that said, 'I'm so proud of you for being responsible and stuff, but seriously, you can't honestly see things dancing in front of you naked, can you?' He then told me that, obviously since he hadn't asked for it, that I didn't have to do it.

Considering I'd spent a good three hours on some of the math, I was actually kind of angry. But he shooed me away towards my afternoon training.

Towards the beginning, I'd asked him why he was bothering to give me special attention. He very seriously proceeded to explain it to me.

The farther on we got in the year, the more Xavier realized that it was very likely this Apocalypse person was going to come back. Since they didn't know a whole lot about him, it was hard to say what was going to happen. Scott was the leader of his team with Jean as co-leader. But since I'd been knocked down, I was now being relegated to leader of the New Mutants. And as such I needed some serious help with my powers.

A lot of these people had had more one-on-one experience than me. So I get my own time.

Yay.

Basically, I get my ass kicked and try and not die. Hopefully when - if - when Apocalypse comes around, I won't get all the brats killed. Or, better yet, I'll get bumped up to my ACTUAL team and not have to worry about them.

But yeah. That was Xavier's explanation, and since he's the big boss, I listened.

I grabbed a quick lunch of some random meat and ate as I wandered around outside. Clouds were beginning to gather, dark and foreboding. Oh, man, if it rains tomorrow for graduation, Jean'll be pissed. And we'll be stuck listening to her complain.

Miss Ororo chose that moment to launch a lightning bolt an inch from my nose. I jerked back with a curse and responded with a sharp downward slice.

She came floating serenely at me out from the trees and I, ever the smart one, ran in the opposite direction. With a flick I triggered the walkway defense, which hopefully would slow her down at least a little bit. I had to be careful to keep my breathing steady, because I'd left my inhaler in my other pants.

We quickly fell into the usual routine for the day. She would attack me, I would respond, she would charge, I would run. I had to learn how to tactically approach someone far outside my skill level, which usually ended up with me convulsing on the ground because she would catch me with a charge.

But I almost always nicked her nowadays.

And she was ten million times better than Logan.

I hate it when Logan decides to come help with my training. He is a very close-combat kind of fighter, and he always uses his damn claws. Beast has to patch me up after every session of ours, no exceptions. And I haven't even hurt him once.

So after a few hours of running and covertly fighting my first ever teacher, she managed to clip me with a combination of a blast of snow/hail and then called down some major voltage from the sky. It wasn't enough to stop my heart - she only did that once, accidentally, because I'd startled her, and we got it started again easily enough - but it still hurt.

Miss Ororo slung one of my twitching arms over her shoulder and helped me limp back to the mansion. Where we'd travelled across the property was easy to distinguish; a gaping scar of torn-up ground, patches of snow, and craters surrounded with blackened grass made a more-or-less linear path towards where I was now.

"How'm I doing?" I mumbled.

She chuckled. "You are increasing in leaps and bounds," she said warmly. "While not perfect, it is a vast improvement over how you arrived at the mansion."

Hah. The only way I could get worse than when I'd started out was to lose a limb. I snorted.

Time flies when you're getting your butt kicked. People were trickling in from school, chatting happily, excited to begin the summer. Even the two stuck-up members of the household were grinning like fools. I smiled to myself, thanked Miss Ororo, and left in search of a hot shower.

* * *

Graduation was going to suck in a very unpleasant and soul-eating way. This I could tell.

I had received my certificate in a private and fast ceremony in Kelly's office. Actually, he'd shoved the booklet at me, glared, and offered me a tight congratulations for catching up enough to pass with all the normal kids. I flicked him off as he left, and Xavier didn't even make any snide comments.

But now I was just sitting in a crisp collared shirt and pressed pants and - worst of all - pinchy dress shoes. Xavier was on my right, and Rogue was on my left, zoning or something. She's weird lately, even more so than usual.

I could see Grace in the sea of students. She was looking a little put out... mostly because of the empty seats on either side of her.

Little did I know that I was one of the few people who actually talked to her outside of her two other friends. Seems having a mutant boyfriend ostracizes you a little. She never mentioned it, not once, not even when I wasn't there at school with her and a bunch of people started teasing her about me.

I won't say, specifically, what was said... but it was nasty enough that I wanted to hurt them. Badly.

Seven months, outside of the mansion, went by very fast. I spent Christmas and New Year's with Grace and her family, and even had a surprise visit from my mom in there somewhere. She'd bought me a bunch of expensive stuff as a way of making up for not adopting me when Patrick had kicked me out. Not that I blamed her, _I _didn't want to be around me after it happened.

Blah blah nostalgia blah.

Point is, I want to be sitting down there next to her, and I'm stuck in the stands with a zombie and a cripple, just waiting for something to go wrong so the shit can hit the fan.

"Attention!" Kelly called into the microphone, ignoring how it crackled and screeched. The collective audience flinched, but quieted down. I felt my shoulders begin to creep up towards my ears.

Kelly started talking about how we'd overcome lots of hardship this year, from things petty as fights to... other stuff. His glare burned into Scott and Jean, and flicked over to me for a split second before he coughed and found his place again. The speech went on for what seemed like a really, really long time, because while it may have started out about triumphing in the face of adversity, it petered out and quickly became very anti-mutant.

He paused for breath, and in doing so, his eyes shot wide open.

I knew what was going on the moment my hands began to burn.

Fighting the urge to hiss like a feral cat, I sprang forward over the railing into the sea of robes and caps, shoving people out of the way so I could meet up with Scott and Jean somewhere in the middle. I clenched my hands into fists, feeling the nails prick at the skin of my palm.

Magneto floated serenely down to the ground where he hovered, showing off in the most fantastic of fashions. Kelly was shrieking like a girl, hollering for the humans to get the hell out of there, which was very smart in my opinion, even if he couldn't hold his anti-mutant bigotry and instead ran away like a scared little child.

"What is the meaning of this, Erik?" Xavier said lowly. I restrained the urge to jump. It was perfectly acceptable for him to be on the field too. Kitty and Kurt had joined us at some point. Miss Ororo was attempting to herd some of the people from the stands out. Ah, crowd control. Lucky her.

"Your student," Magneto snarled, stabbing a finger at the Professor, "attacked both myself and my Acolytes last night!"

What?

"And what proof do you have?" Xavier's voice was chilling rapidly. He was pissed, I could tell. Hey, you spend four hours a day with him for over half a year and tell me if you don't know when he's getting mad!

Magneto snorted in a derogatory fashion. "My security tapes caught the entire thing." He lifted his head up and held out one arm.

To everyone's shock, Rogue, looking very zombie-like still, came floating over, tied up in a mish-mash of chairs, metal chains, and links from the nearby fence. Pietro flashed past underneath her, looking smug. I wanted to punch him in his stupid snotty face. Good thing I've learned at least a little restraint.

Xavier and Magneto whipped accusations and defenses back and forth for a few sharp seconds, but Rogue apparently didn't want to float around like a doll any more, because she closed her eyes and BAM! All the stuff that had been holding her flew away and into the sea of people still crushing to get out of the stadium. Shrieks of pain began to add to the general din.

Rogue eased higher into the air before calling down lightning, separating the two groups by a flash of electricity that carved a hole into the turf. And then, to top it all off, she not only dragged me forward, she did so without making any indicating motions, so I was suddenly sent careening into Magneto whereas before I'd been debating the merits of knocking her out from behind. I did not appreciate the sudden surfacing of powers she wasn't supposed to have.

Magneto caught me by the back of my shirt, and I hung there, limp. My hands ached, and bending them even a little brought sparks of pain racing up my arms.

I think I'm going to have some serious arthritis problems in the future.

He set me down easily enough before watching Rogue fly off.

"Logan," Xavier said. "Track her. Loki, accompany him."

Easier said than done.

Magneto stared down at me as I curled my injured limbs in closer to my chest. "Gambit, Sabertooth, go along with them."

"Hell no!" I shouted, reflexively clenching my fists. I bit back a gasp. "I'm not working with them," I snarled. "They've tried to _kill _me."

"I agree with the brat," Logan growled. A moment later, Sabertooth echoed the sound, prompting Logan to release his claws.

Oh yeah. Here I have a thing against working with people who've tried to kill me when all Logan wants to do is beat Sabertooth black and blue. So naturally they're going to get all the attention. Rivals and such.

"Calm down," Gambit bit out. "Fightin's not gonna solve nothin'." He pointed to me with his staff. "Got a ride?" I shook my head. "You're comin' wit me, den."

I glanced back helplessly at Xavier, who simply sighed and rubbed his forehead. "There's too much at stake," he said finally, and damn if those words didn't sound like the final nail being hammered into my coffin.

I sent one final pleading look at my superior officer. Scott just looked down. "Fuck," I mumbled under my breath. But since I didn't have a choice, I followed slowly behind Logan as the other two members of our search party struck off for the parking lot.

True to his word, I was tossed a helmet and told to sit in front of Gambit on what seemed to be a large and impressive motorcycle. Remembering my last experience on one (meaning I totaled the thing and wasn't allowed to drive ever again), I readily agreed. At least riding on the freakishly huge machine meant we wouldn't have to interact.

* * *

Gambit was insane.

Not only did he insist on going way too damn fast, he tried to hold a conversation with me. Mostly about Rogue. He had just been asking me about what she seemed to enjoy doing in her spare time (which I'd shouted back that I didn't know, for the millionth time, because _we don't hang out_) when Logan and Sabertooth signalled for us to stop.

Which he did.

Abruptly.

I came very, very close to pitching head-over-handlebars, and as it was, Gambit still had to wrap one arm around my middle to keep me sitting. Which I did not appreciate, because he has the lovely talent of _making things explode by touching them. _So that only resulted in me flailing wildly, trying to get the hell away from him, while he snickered at my panic.

Logan had whipped his helmet off and was taking deep sniffs, which led him towards what appeared to be a limo. Sure, ignore me, Logan. Whatever.

Right, quick view of where we were: big, empty lot. A limo just chilling in the middle. You know, exciting stuff like that.

Sabertooth stalked over to where Logan was. He then ripped the door off and stuck his head inside. Logan had done almost the same thing (he just opened it instead) and I could hear an angry curse as their heads connected. I sighed heavily and glanced to Gambit, who had the most irritated look on his face.

"Worse than children, they are," Gambit muttered. I could only agree.

"So how'd you get caught up with Magneto?" I said, crossing my arms over my chest, watching the two men argue over whose scents were in the car.

Gambit shrugged. His trench coat swirled around his legs. I was jealous for a second, but thankfully I'd had the presence of mind to bring a bag with my uniform in it and had changed quickly while the babies were loudly and physically debating which direction to take off in first. So I got to look awkward in a leather/spandex black and silver monstrosity while he got to look cool and intimidating.

Never mind.

"Ah don' see how that's any o' your business." I shrugged.

"Just trying to make conversation."

More shouting. They were pounding fists into the poor vehicle, now, leaving dents the size of grapefruits littering the roof. Such a shame. Logan looked about ready to leap over the hunk of discarded metal and tear out Sabertooth's throat, but I'd had enough. I stomped over and grabbed the shorter man around the neck, dragging him backwards.

Last time I did that, he'd almost disemboweled me. This time, he was far too gone in being pissed off to try and attack.

"Enough!" Gambit near-yelled. "Look, we ain't got time for dis. Either get over yahselves or leave!" Logan snapped his mouth shut, growling darkly, but he slowly untensed in my grasp.

Which was good because even if he's a foot shorter than me, damn he's hard to hold.

So it turns out our parking spot in the big empty lot was actually a strip of runway. How did we find this out?

Why, almost getting run over, of course.

Gambit was really starting to tear them a new one when I heard an ominous buzz. I glanced up and was met with the very spectacular view of a plane's underbelly... one which I could have lived without, seeing as I was close enough to make out the treads on its tires.

Everyone threw themselves to the ground, and if I really concentrated, I could hear the pilot spitting out curse words. It sailed harmlessly over our much-shorter heads and came in for a landing a hundred yards away.

"Whatcha got, Logan?" I whispered.

"The kid was definitely in the car," he said quietly back. "They prob'ly took a plane to keep goin'."

"Go where?"

Right. Never got debriefed as to why Rogue's suddenly gone... rogue. Yeah. Sorry.

"It's Mesmero again," Logan explained as he picked himself off. One hairy hand slapped at the dirt on his jacket. "We figure he's tryin' to use Rogue to open the last lock on Apocalypse's door."

I just kind of gaped at this, because I thought there was some kind of key needed, but apparently not. Got to love it when the bad guys start changing the rules on ya.

"De control tower outta have de last coordinates," Gambit said thoughtfully. "You go 'borrow' that plane, I'll get where we're goin'." He chanced a look in the other two's direction, and rolled his eyes.

"I'll take care of it," I muttered, pushing myself to my feet. Now I just need to get the plane...

Again. Easier said than done.

I figured it would be easy enough to liberate a human from his aircraft, but sneaking turned out to be really hard, because there wasn't anything to hide behind. So I ended up just approaching the fuming guy with my hands behind my back. Where, of course, I was currently holding a handful of blunt winds, which I would in a moment be using judiciously to knock him out.

"What the hell d'ya think yer doin'?" the guy shouted. "We're gonna get fined!"

"I need to borrow your plane." He opened his mouth to tell me where I could shove that demand and I swung my arm around, clipping him in the face. He went down like a sack of rocks, brown hair askew. I grabbed him under his arms and heaved. And let me tell you, guy's dead weight. It took longer than I would have liked.

That meant that when I got back from finding a bush (at the end of the damn runway, no less), all three of the other people I was stuck with were standing around the plane, waiting for me. Sabertooth was actually glaring daggers at Logan, who was ignoring him to the best of his ability. I'm so proud.

(And for those of you wondering why I'm not running in the opposite direction because of the cat, it's because I know I've got Logan on my side. And I'm a bit more capable now. But yeah, I'm still terrified, I've just gotten a lot better at hiding it.)

Gambit reported in short order that all the guards in the control tower had been knocked out cold. He did get the coordinates, though, so we were all set.

"Who's gonna drive?" I said after a beat of silence.

Logan and Sabertooth glared at each other, and I was surprised that neither burst into flames from the strength of it.

"Get in da back seat, you two," Gambit sighed, using his staff to point at the two CHILDREN bickering under their breaths. "You're mah co-pilot." That got me a staff-point.

I nodded in agreement. Silently, though, I hoped it wouldn't turn out like the last time I'd tried to control a plane. Jet. Whatever. Point is, I don't want to end up almost crashing into a cliff and dieing.

That would be extremely unpleasant.

And even though I was not looking forward to spending the next portion of my life stuck in a cramped little plane with Sabertooth and his pissing-match-rival Logan, I knew it needed to be done. Because if Rogue is being controlled and is going to open the last lock, someone needs to stop her.

Before we all fall to Apocalypse.

* * *

**A/N: **Figured I'd crank out one more chapter before the year's done. Oh, and finals are upon me, which explains why I did this in like three days. :D So yeah, you know the drill, I don't own X-Men, just Loki and his circle of family/friends that aren't Marvel's property. Please leave a review as my Christmas gift. Thanks a ton for all the favorites/reviews/stuff.

OVER 100 REVIEWS WOOT! You guys rock!


	43. Beginning of the End

Alright. Fly a jet, they told me. I can learn. Fly a jet that's been 'borrowed' by kiddies and is about to crash into a cliff, the told me. A little harder, but I managed to get out with no loss of life.

And yet now they tell me to co-pilot a stolen aircraft with two of my enemies only inches away? Just kill me now.

Oh, it'd been fine at first. They'd been moody and refused to even look at one another (like a couple of CHILDREN, I feel the need to add). Moody and silent had slowly turned towards moody and snappish, then moody and argumentative, and finally moody and muderous.

And if Sabertooth threatened to claw the side of the plane to let Logan out one more time, I was going to throw up. The giant cat's such a reckless wild card, it was really hard to tell whether he was actually being serious or not. So that meant he probably was choosing to believe that the plane wouldn't go down in some horrible death spiral and would just... float to a stop or something. I don't know.

I try to make it a point not to think about how his mind works.

I stopped looking out the window and tried to focus on the readings, but as time trickled on, I could tell where we were heading wasn't going to be pleasant for me. My movements were getting sluggish.

Effing cold. God _damn _it.

Through a mouthful of fluff, I mumbled to Gambit, "Where are we?"

"Somewhere above da Himalayas." It took a second for the appropriate neurons to fire, because I didn't fully understand what was going on. Finally it clicked, though, and I could only sigh.

"Just my luck." I turned on the electric heating part of my uniform (thank goodness for small miracles), but even when I had the thing set to 'roast my balls' I wasn't getting anything. I stifled the urge to sigh and instead curled into a little ball in my seat.

"Somethin' wrong, bub?" Logan's knee jabbed into my seat, and I groaned softly.

"Cold," I forced out through clenched teeth.

Nails closed around my shoulders - not coincidentally in the same places they'd been during the giant robot attack. I was seizing up quickly, though, and had absolutely zero energy to spend on flailing and yelling, so I just went completely limp. Prickling let me know that he'd split the skin in a couple of places, but my uniform was blood-proof, so I didn't worry.

"Got a t'ing 'gainst da cold, kid?" Gambit muttered. His grip on the proverbial wheel had been growing tighter and tighter. Now he was speaking through a locked jaw, his knuckles white. I swear, if he makes this plane explode...

"It's my blood." Sabertooth's grip on my shoulder tightened, enough that said blood actively began pouring out of my wounds. Had it not been below zero outside and I not been sitting inside a flying tin of cold, it would have streamed normally; as it was, it kind of sluggishly tracked down my arm where it began to drip - reluctantly - onto the floor of the cabin. "I get funny with the cold, and my uniform's malfunctioning."

Just like my brain.

Damn.

Logan began spitting out curse words so low and viscious I actively had to listen to make out some of the consonents, and when I realized what exactly he was saying, I grinned half-heartedly. Miss Ororo would have taken a piece out of his ass so fast...

Of course, to make things worse, we were beginning to lose altitude. Fast. Gambit began adding to the general air of cussing, Sabertooth didn't ease up on my shoulder, and our gradual sloping descent turned into, more or less, us dropping like a stone.

I didn't bother screaming. What was the point?

I closed my eyes. Cold air whipped around me, dragging my hair around my face - it was getting long again, I was going to need a cut when I got back home... oh, wait. Death is approaching in the form of a mountain chain. Never mind.

Gambit must have some other kind of power besides making things blow up with just a touch, because one second I was lamenting my fuzzy brain's inability to think something serious before my untimely demise and the next we were skidding to a halt, snow building up in the cabin from the hole my blood had caused and piling around my feet.

Stabbing pain in my shoulder and a dull burning along my legs became my world.

I don't remember cold being that painful - ever. I've always been numb to it. It'll paralyze me, nothing more. But this - this was _cold _and _burning _at the same time and damn if I didn't start shrieking for someone to cut my legs off, get the cold air away from my skin...

Strong arms pulled me from the negative-degree snowpile. A thick brown trench coat was wrapped around me like a straightjacket. Slowly, slowly, it began to glow a dull magenta.

I think this was a bad thing. I thrashed weakly in place. My heart beat a staccato rhythm in my chest, thump-thump-thump.

"Calm down," Gambit - I think it was him, red eyes and all - said quietly. "Wolverine's contactin' home base. We crashed down next ta anatha plane. Sabertooth's been sniffin' 'round. Mesmero's scent is everywhere."

Oh, fantastic. Mesmero's been in a plane we just happened to crash land next to, we're stuck in the snowiest hell on the damn planet, and I'm a flop away from having a grand mal seizure and kicking the bucket for good. I hate this. Tears froze to my face, alighting the skin and making it hurt with more of the cold-pain.

Logan's muffled bursts of conversation into the comlink sounded garbled. He was stalking this way and that, shooting glances at me through the slanting snow. He definitely mentioned Rogue, though, at least once. So that means we're on the right track.

Right?

I think it was. His next sentence consisted of something along the lines of, "...and the cabbage hid the toaster so it wouldn't sing with the giraffe off-key for the next production of Wicked..." I tuned out. Maybe it saved a brain cell or ten.

And then I was floating.

My eyes half-lidded, I heard a sibilant voice echoing around me. The cold and burning pain had disappeared. Light itself seemed to cradle me, binding my limbs in gentle ties that were as restrictive as I felt underwater.

_Push them._

It would be so easy...

_They will put you back in the cold._ I skinned my lips back from my teeth. I wouldn't let them! I didn't deserve this weakness! They couldn't take advantage of me like that!

_Push them over the edge. _The light gave me strength. I stood, unwrapped the glowing coat, striding confidently towards one of them - Sabertooth. His back was turned. He wouldn't suspect a thing...

_That's right. Show them that you aren't weak. Push them over the edge._

My hands fisted. I was just about to swing them around - a blunt blade, putting insult to injury the way Sabertooth had done to me, the way the voice whispered me to - when something tackled me to the ground.

Instantly, the warmth fled. Pain replaced everything, unhesitating, and I cried out, only to find my face in the ground. Snow clogged my throat, and the weight didn't ease for a few more seconds, seconds that stretched to fill an eternity. I'd thought I knew what it meant to hurt - but this banished everything. I forgot what it meant to be a person; all I was was agony.

"Just calm down," Logan's growl rippled into my ear. "Mesmero was taking control of you. We had to stop you before you punted Creed over the mountain." He added something that sounded suspiciously like "damn shame, too", but that might have just been my imagination.

Sabertooth responded in kind - of course, his hearing is nothing to laugh at. Gambit, fully irritated, snapped, "Why don't de both of you jump off de damn cliff and leave me and de kid to figure dis out!"

They subsided into grumbling, but didn't do as they obviously wanted to. I appreciated this, especially because I was still face-down in the snow. Gambit, smart cookie he was, took pity and slung me over his shoulders, fireman style. I probably deafened him in one ear, considering it felt like he'd just took me off the rack.

Also: undignified? Hell yes. Did it work? Unfortunately.

I was treated to a view of alternating snow, darkness, and flashes of leg as Gambit stalked along some path I couldn't see.

(Later, I learned there had been footprints leading from the other plane to our destination. I felt stupid for a good long while.)

How long we walked, I'll only be able to guesstimate. Maybe twenty minutes, maybe an hour. I slipped in and out of consciousness while hitchhiking. Gambit was breathing harshly towards the end, and he set me gently (sort of) against a chunk of stone.

"It's a door," I said after a moment. The three other people with me looked at me like I was a kid who'd cut his arm off and said 'ouch'. Well, the big crevice down the middle complete with creepy symbols all along the front led me to that conclusion, and the others could jump off the mountain for all I care.

"Logan, get de kid and move him for a sec," Gambit instructed. I decided now was not exactly an important time to remind him I was seventeen years old and nowhere near a kid, but then I was being hoisted onto a short and bony pair of shoulders. For someone so muscular, he sure hurt. Not to mention the fact that, me on him sideways, my arms and legs were almost touching the ground.

Through fuzzy eyes I watched Gambit take a few steps forward and lay his hands on the door. He closed his eyes, biting his lip until a bead of blood slid down his chin.

The door began to glow an ominous shade of pink. If pink could be said to glow ominously.

With a boom loud enough to start an avalanche (somewhere), the entire part of the mountain facing us exploded outwards. Chips of rock dug bloody furrows into my face and side. Logan merely grunted and folded me up (I'm a lawnchair now, apparently) to better protect me.

Warm air gushed out from the cavern, and Logan very unceremoniously tossed me inside. I skidded and flopped and rolled to a stop against the far wall, eyes crossed and groaning as prickles let me feel my fingers once more.

Another door to my left cracked open, allowing a purple-cloaked person to slide through like a car skidding on ice. Cool eyes glanced my way, assessed me, and kept right on going.

I gritted my teeth. No one is allowed to disregard me as nothing unless I give them permission and I know they're kidding. Therefore, this person must be punched.

I sucked in a breath between my front teeth and grabbed behind me for a handhold. I then used that to lever myself into a starting position, meaning I was balanced half on the wall and half on my own feet. It could have gone either way in a split second; me on my face or me going to find the asshole and teach him some damn manners.

Gambit pulled his staff out of his hammerspace (cut me some slack, all I end up watching at night is anime regardless) and, with a flick, extended it to its full length. He swung down at the purple-cloaked person (who, after a moment, ripped the garment off and revealed himself to be Mesmero), face locked in a growl.

Mesmero dodged just as fluidly as I remembered when I was fought him, snapping one hand out to smack Gambit into the stone. Logan took that as his cue to charge next, because a _snikt _reverberated around the cavern and he disappeared in a black and yellow blur.

That, too, turned out to be futile; Mesmero ducked and weaved around the blades and locked his hand around a spot on Logan's wrist, making his claws retreat and (from what I could see) his entire hand go dead. From there it took a moment to simply dispose of him as he'd done to Gambit seconds before.

I was balanced on the wall with my mouth open. Mesmero had been tough, yeah, but I'd landed a hit! He'd retreated! I've only gotten stronger, I've only developed more control, and yet he's beating my combat superiors without breaking a sweat!

So I stood like an idiot and watched as Sabertooth was dispatched with relative ease, watched as Mesmero looked at me with hardly any expression except contempt for my weakness, and I pushed off from the wall and swung my arms around, fangs bared and blades of wind sharp.

Mesmero took a step to avoid the strike, but I pressed forward, never letting him get close enough to get at me, but keeping the onslaught easy enough that he'd dodge.

He's trying to raise Apocalypse. Keep him distracted long enough, it should be fine. Right?

That instant I paused to think that thought cost me dearly: next thing I knew, his hand was around my throat, I was against the wall again, and my feet were dangling in the air. I couldn't breathe. The sheer panic almost triggered an asthma attack, but I didn't have anything to help stave that off other than the knowledge that if I succumbed, I was dead.

"You will die," Mesmero hissed, eyes narrowed. There was a thin scar on his nose, where I'd cut him last time. "My master will give me the pleasure of killing you and your friends."

Choke. Cough. Gasp.

Mesmero smirked, and I smirked, but for a different reason. He saw my creeping smile and shook me, banging my head against the stone.

"Cease your worthless struggles," he snarled.

Why was I smiling?

"Fool!"

Logan was gone. Gambit was charging a handful of cards. And Sabertooth...

With a wet gasp, Mesmero's eyes rolled into his head. His clutching hand around my throat loosened, and he slumped to the ground. I fell with much less grace, meaning I just barely missed kissing the floor.

Sabertooth gave me a toothy smile-that-wasn't-a-smile and flexed his hand, flicking off the blood from his first finger where he'd stabbed Mesmero in the back of the head. I said nothing, just nodded.

"What now?" I said quietly to Gambit. He didn't respond, but I could see he was tense. He looked like a cat raising its haunches, fur bristling at an unknown entity. I felt all the hairs on the back of my neck stand stiff at once, and with dread I turned to the dark depths of the other door within the cavern.

Logan came first, shooting out of there and landing limply a few feet away from me with a muted thump. I rushed over, feeling for a pulse, and along with that I was rewarded with a Thing (capital much intended, thank you) popping out of freaking nowhere, only to disgorge a bunch of people it would have been nice to see, oh, say, TWENTY MINUTES AGO.

I pushed away the screaming voices that were clamoring for control and pulled Logan to his groggy-drunk-ass feet, tugging him over to the Professor, who watched the black hole of an open door in front of us with something akin to dread.

"What's going to happen, Professor?" I didn't realize for a moment that the question had come from me, but when Xavier swung his focus to me, I saw something in his eyes I'd never seen before.

Fear.

He was afraid of what was going to happen. Of what would happen despite our best efforts.

My stomach dropped out from beneath me.

"What about Rogue?" Logan slurred. "She's in there, and Apocalypse is-"

Whatever he was about to say died a quick death. As one entity, everyone turned their heads to the open door. Belatedly, I noticed Magneto among the arrivals from the diamond transporter.

It was as if the world suddenly stopped turning, and we were left with the backlash. I felt as if I was trying to move through fudge. Air was rocks in my lungs, and it seemed to push against my very body.

Looking back, I realized what happened next took maybe thirty seconds. But it felt like forever.

I saw a glowing light emerge from the darkness. My mouth began to drop. The light floated forward, and Apocalypse appeared, regal and frightening in one. He was pale, covered in navy marks, his jaw square and his frame wiry.

From behind me, Scott fired off a shot. Without breaking his steady movement forward, Apocalypse sent it bending off to shatter harmlessly against the wall, blowing chunks of stone and dust into the stagnant air.

I let Logan slide from my shoulders and held my hands together. A ball of silver began to expand in my palms. I braced myself against the person behind me - Jean, I think, or maybe the tin can Acolyte of Magneto's.

The silver beam exploded outwards as I threw my arm forward, reminiscent of a fastball from my little league days.

Apocalypse's lips turned slightly downwards, but he waved his hand and watched me with his dark eyes.

My winds _bounced._

I felt the searing pain in my right shoulder the moment I realized that we failed.

Darkness swallowed me.

* * *

The sun shone merrily along the grounds, illuminating the sparkling streams of water as the fountain tossed them high into the air. I watched it curiously. X-23 had destroyed the fountain about a month ago, and it was the first time I'd seen the new one.

Grace sat on my left, my hand clutched between her two. Her head was bowed, dark curls brushing my ear. I hadn't put my inducer on since - well, in a few days - so my pointed ears were nestled in a mixture of white and brown hair.

"So what's the next step?" Grace had asked me once I'd been cleared from the hospital wing. I told her, plainly, that I didn't know.

But I did. I love her, and I don't want to lose her, and I know it's not the best time what with a war on against Apocalypse and all, but damn if I don't want some fucking happiness before it all goes to hell.

"Grace," I murmured. She obligingly let go of my hand and watched with damp eyes as I slid off the marble bench and awkwardly onto one knee. My balance was still shot from-

_don't think about it_

-well, my balance was off. So I struggled for a moment, pulling the little velvet box from my off-side pocket. But I flipped it open and held it out to her, looking up. Grace's expression was carefully closed, her eyes (usually so expressive) shuttered.

"Will you marry me?" I asked quietly.

She flicked her gaze from my face to my - side. Silence filled the day which had before seemed so cheerful. I don't know why I'm doing this, I don't deserve someone as amazing as her, but I know I want to be with her for the rest of my life, and considering already that I might die sooner than I want, at least I'll have known love. I'll die knowing someone, at least, will mourn me and carry my name with her for the rest of her life.

"I'll have to ask my mom and Eric," she said finally. "And I want you to rest, and think about this. I do want to marry you - but I want to know, one hundred percent, that you're in your right mind when you ask. Not just coming down from-"

_DON'T THINK ABOUT IT_

"Alright?"

I nodded. She eased the ring from my hand, grabbed my head, and pulled me in for a kiss.

One hand wandered down to find my left, clasping it and weaving its fingers through mine.

The other settled on the flapping sleeve covering the bandages wrapped around my shoulder. Phantom pain prickled up and down my right arm - or the space where it had once been.

I closed my eyes and wished the world away.

* * *

**A/N: **College ate my life. No other excuses. Thanks for reviews, see you in another couple months. Sorry. =/

(Also, remember waaay back when in the beginning I made Loki's dad commit suicide? Had it planned. Loki losing his arm? Have had that planned too. Stay tuned to see if Loki and Grace will ever tie the knot!)


	44. Loki Loses His Marbles

Want to know the weirdest thing about having one arm?

_You've only got one fucking arm._

Yeah. Shocker. However, after feeling stabbing, burning, piercing pain in a limb that is no longer attached to your body, you come to realize that the whole amputee shindig gets old... quickly.

I was wrapped up in blankets, only a little bit of my face and hair easily visible from any given door. Of course, due to my completely justifiable paranoia, I was also tucked in the corner of the rec room where there were no doors. Easier to see people coming.

Almost killing them the first time they walk through wasn't my fault! Honest. I'm just... anxious.

About what? I can hear you calling. Well, golly gee, I don't know. I have two people I want to kill, up from the none I've always gone around with. I want to marry the love of my life even though I'm a social menace and a cripple. I don't know what I'm going to do with the rest of my life, despite the fact Xavier wants me to be one of his do-gooder lackeys.

So yeah.

My stump - another weird thing to think about - was healing nicely. Apocalypse hadn't cut it off evenly, goodness forbid, so Beast had done surgery to remove the rest of the joint and why the hell am I tormenting myself with this? It's not my fault I'm too much of a goddamn idiot to see when I'm outmatched. My brows furrowed.

Kurt 'ported in, choking me with the cloud of sulfur. I lashed out with my non-existent arm, flailed with the one good one, and toppled over.

"Oh, Loki," he sighed, gently propping me back up despite me trying my best to beat him back. Everyone's been like that. Helpful.

So unlike them.

Of course, everyone also had their own injuries to contend with. Most of us had been wounded; a couple, like Rogue, were just screwed in the head. I'd heard on the class grapevine that the King of Jackasses had sort of purged her when he sucked up all our powers. So now she was all alone... again. I wonder if she was lonely... meh. Makes me no difference.

"Are you just going to stay here for the rest of your life?" Kurt asked suddenly.

My mouth worked, but no noise came out. I'd had no conversation aside from my mental rantings, and intelligent responses were fresh out.

"There's no point. The world keeps turning whether one man is injured or one mother is turned to stone." He turned away, and just like that the focus of the day was on his problems, not mine. Mystique turned to stone? Oh, that's a shame, go help the three-limbed mutant and keep moping.

I hate people.

Mostly I intended to stay in that corner, at least until the world stopped screwing with me. So I wouldn't ever have to leave! It was a great plan. Until, that is, Xavier decides it's time to intervene for the sake of your crumbling sanity.

Time had been warping oddly for me. It seemed like two seconds ago Kurt had had his moment, yet now the mansion stood in darkness, breathing with its many sleeping inhabitants. Except for one reclusive genius and his deadbeat insomniac foster kid.

I heard his small motor fire long before I saw him enter. He was nice like that, giving a guy warnings, not like Scott with his cast or Jean with her crutches or Kitty sliding through walls despite having her ribs taped. Those bastards.

"Good morning, Professor," I said calmly, my voice cracking. "I think it's morning. Is it?"

"More or less," he said in an equally calm tone. Oh, so that's how it's going to be. Fine. I can out-calm anyone. Bring it. "How are you doing?"

And snap went my resolve, snap went my temper. I hissed, baring fangs, silver eyes flashing and one working hand clawing in the fabric of my blankets. Words escaped me; I lost my mind entirely for the span of a moment.

"I see." Damn him!

Just as long as he doesn't want to talk about it...

"Your mother wants to see you, Loki." And he was there again, differently angled to face me, wreathed in sunlight and floating motes of dust. I blinked.

No fair! I want my hours back. But I nodded hesitantly enough and Xavier scooted forward before turning to toss an expectant look and I didn't even know if my legs worked any more but that was stupid because I have two legs but only one arm so what did that mean? I can't walk on my hands?

Laughter slid out of me, harsh and uncontrollable. But I stood on legs made of rubber and made them work, made myself move. There wasn't anything else I could do. Was there? I don't think so.

Raw sun hit my skin, tingling pleasantly. How long since I had been outside? How long since my maiming? How long was the universe alive, how long would our sun keep burning? Important questions. I had no answers.

Mom was sitting on a concrete bench facing the new fountain we'd put in to replace the one Wolverine's clone had destroyed. I was momentarily distracted by the reflected sparkle of water droplets flying through the air, until Xavier gently prodded my brain and told me to keep walking. I slid in on her left side, so she wouldn't see... it.

The empty, flapping sleeve of my t-shirt.

Despite my insanity, she grabbed my hand and used her other one to card through my hair. I felt an eternity's worth of painful jealousy. I wasn't going to be able to do that. Not to Grace. Not to her. Not to the kids I knew would be running around here some day. But the jealousy popped like a soap bubble and I was fine again, just fine, just fine.

"Hey baby," Mom whispered. Stroke, stroke, through my hair went her fingers. "Hey."

"Hi." I couldn't think of anything else to say. What did she want?

Silence. Awkward, smothering, but the air was scented with blooming flowers and clean water. I'd graduated recently. I think I told her, but she didn't respond. Or I didn't tell her. I don't know.

"There's something important I need to tell you," she finally said. Was it a minute later? An hour? "A man I'm representing in court. He... worked with your father, at one point, and he knows you are my son. I'm worried that if he wins his appeal, he might come looking for you and your friends."

Apocalypse?

"His name is Trask. Bolivar Trask."

I could almost see the name come rolling out of her mouth, could see the Sentinel that threatened to crush me, the Sentinel that had killed innocent bystanders in its hunt to eradicate the mutant scum... and he worked with Patrick. Shouldn't surprise me. Keep the bigots together and make a squad. One was called the SS. The other is just the government.

Nod to acknowledge. Squeeze hand for emphasis. Spill empty platitudes, words that hold no meaning because they're just a jumble of letters and noise. She seemed happier knowing I was alright. But was I alright? Somehow I could tell sanity was hanging by a thread.

I hear that word a lot. Alright. Everything will be alright, they keep telling me. But I've yet to see any evidence to prove that.

Storm clouds were rolling in. Miss Ororo was in a terrible mood, had been since Apocalypse was resurrected. I bet she felt responsible for our injuries. I don't know why. She didn't make me raise my arms, didn't make me loose the silver winds of my gift, didn't bounce them back and slice through flesh, muscle, bone-

* * *

I hate only having one arm.

It makes reassuring unnecessarily difficult.

Of course I'm fine. Yes it hurts. No I don't want a new arm. (Pointless. It can't channel wind like my real one.) Yes I'm hanging on. Please don't cry.

Grace visited. Before or after Mom, I can't tell. But it was a chilly day for early summer, I remember. I was sluggish. I wore a sweatshirt, and she ribbed me with careful diligence. A sense of normalcy, that's what she wanted. I wanted to give it to her. So I smiled an empty smile and did my best.

"Have you thought about it?" I asked. My voice sounded flat, mechanical to my ears. Pointed ears. Why? "At all?"

She skirted my gaze, playing with the hem of her shirt, toeing the grass. Outside, that's where we were, under the shade of a tall tree, watching nature unfold before us in all its autonomy.

Wind ruffled our clothes. I imagined it had a voice, light and free, not constrained by something as clumsy as spoken word. It merely let its voice be heard, and all understood.

"Yes," she finally said. "And my answer is the same. Ask when you mean it, not because you're injured." Like it was something minor, something to recover from. I hugged her to me. I wanted to stroke her hair, but my only arm was occupied. Pity.

"I do mean it," I protested. It was weak, she could tell as easily as I could. And she didn't even yell at me, the pity I saw was absolutely smothering in her expression and every line of her body, I hated that too, even more than I hated being a crippled freak.

She left soon after. I can't blame her. I didn't. We'd had spats, but she knew I was in a bad place. My one tether to sanity helped me see that. She wasn't doing it out of obligation or a sense of sick humor. She loved me. I could believe in that, at least.

I sat alone under the tree for an entire day, watching the sun fade, stars glimmer, and a return to daylight. My team, my stupid, wonderful team, they came and watched sunrise with me, a show of support.

Bobby. Amara. Jamie. Sam. Chris. Roberto.

Names have such weight. Loki, Norse god of trickery. Did they know what trickery I would get into?

Amara, dark, sheeting hair tucked in a butterfly clip, she helped me to my feet, steadying me. Balance shot, lost a limb, isn't that a riot? He can't even stand, and he has to lead us into battle. Roberto, patting me gently on the back, his dark eyes thoughtful. Sam, Southern manners omnipresent, holding the door to the mansion. Chris, eclectic hair drooping, sulking off to my right. Sweet Jamie, pulling the chair out at the table, grin toothy and wide. Not more than twelve.

Bobby, sliding a plate of chilled fruit in front of me. Ice blue eyes looked at me, not judging, not pitiful, simply looking, seeing what? A broken man, no. A boy, hurt and crazed, needing silent companionship.

I ate. It tasted like cold dirt down my throat, but I ate every bite.

* * *

Kurt and Rogue fought a lot.

I didn't know about Mystique until almost a week after my incident. I was never told; I never asked. I simply watched.

A statue appeared in the garden, back when I still felt able to hold myself in one piece enough to take walks. It was a light brown, maybe sandstone. A woman screaming in pain, holding one arm was its depiction. Later I saw Kurt staring at it, inducer off, mourning etched in the deep shadows under his eyes. Rogue's shouts could be heard, Mystique wasn't her mother, she didn't need a mother, why was that damn statue still here?

I know Logan tried to talk to Rogue. I know she didn't appreciate it one bit, either. Lots of adults tried to talk to Rogue.

Almost as many that talked to me. At least she responded, though. I couldn't tell if I was seeing people or if they were talking to me or not, so I hardly responded. People left me alone, anti-social and traumatized me. But at least they fed me. I can't remember the last time I ate on my own.

Time rolled, twisted, and I was back in the here, now. Sitting on a tree branch, couldn't remember how I climbed with one arm but did it matter? No one around to ask me how I was doing, no one to poke and prod. But I could see the terrible three: the stone, the silent sufferer, the lonely son.

"Please, Rogue," he begged. "You can save her! It's the right thing to do! Could you live with the guilt of murdering your own mother?"

Anguish. Pleading.

Rogue was unsettled. But she made her decision and announced it to the world with a yell (full of words, words like butterflies that flapped away before I could capture them and make sense) and a push. The Stone Woman went tumbling down, and might as well have been made of eggshells for all that stone would do her good.

I could have interfered. I should have. But the Stone Woman seemed to be flowing through the air, not falling, leaving behind eddies and whorls in the atmosphere around her and the cliff side. The gazebo, white-washed wood gazebo, Kurt and Rogue were standing together in the gazebo but it quickly became only the latter as a puff of pink smoke replaced the Nightcrawler.

Kurt's cry wailed across the empty grounds.

More laughter came spilling from my throat, unbidden, cackling. I toppled from the tree and laughed as Beast carried me to my bed in the hospital, laughed until the sedative slid icily through my arm and shrouded the world in fog.

* * *

They restrained me not long (or before?) the incident with Rogue and the Stone Woman. I was on the bed, on my bed, in the hospital wing, mouth working but no words would come out, words like butterflies I wanted to hold in my two hands again.

Faces swam in and out of focus. Sometimes it was Grace, holding my hand, comforting me. Sometimes Mom was there. Sometimes a slew of people, my new old experienced mutant team and my old really experienced team. Bobby brought me food and Amara did her research and Roberto read and Chris tapped on his laptop and Jamie his handheld game and Sam checked my IVs.

Help help help.

It's all they want to do, help, help the one they once looked up to but now look down at, not by choice, everything ripped away from them in a flurry of madness. Or was that me?

Dreams chased me. Being sedated wasn't like being unconscious, where there was no rest but no dreams. Being sedated was more like having to hold still in the dreams, which made me an easier target.

Blurred jumbles of images, streaking colors, and pain, always pain. I never escaped the pain. Maybe the world I thought was real is a dream, and to wake I must endure more pain from these flashes of life. I have no clue.

I don't know.

I really just don't know.

A long time passed. Seconds blew past, hours looped around my head, people came and people went. I was tied down, locked down, for my own safety because what purpose does a one-armed mutant have other than a liability? No use trying to make it stop, people watching your every move, can't even blow air in the IV, can't even sneeze without someone checking to see I'm alive.

Too invested is what they are. I was too invested. Too invested in Dad, too invested in my normal life. That's why it hurt to have it ripped away.

Fuck them. Fuck them all. I hate them.

Xavier Ororo Logan McCoy Jean Scott Kitty Rogue Kurt Bobby Amara Roberto Sam Jamie Chris-

_namesnamesnames_

I hate the sound of voices, I hate the face I see looking out from the mirror, I hate them all-

* * *

Beast said my breakthrough happened about mid-July. Two weeks in the bed. One week from being taken to a professional mental hospital.

I broke everything. Trashed the entire wing. Screamed until I couldn't speak, until my vocal cords were agonizing cords of molten fire in my throat. Cried until my eyes swelled shut, my cheeks flushed bright blue.

But I did it. I did it.

I took my shattered self and put it back together again. I came to terms with the fact I had lost a part of myself, and had come to terms with the fact that I only had one arm, and that I could still think and reason and could want to live, want to marry, want a normal life.

It took a little longer to convince Xavier and all the other adults (including my mom) to take me off suicide watch. But sitting sedately under constant adult supervision for a long time got old fast, so I managed to prove that I wasn't going to drink the drain cleaner if anyone took their eyes off me for even a second. That was a relief.

Bathroom time was not fun, let me tell you.

But anyways. I wasn't cured, not by a long shot. Beast said I was doing much better, that my PTSD was easing up a little (though it might integrate with my nightmares, which sounded like two tons of fun), and that with some good ol' therapy I'd be fit for whatever my little heart desired.

Which mostly was eating, reading, sleeping, and peeing ALONE.

Not too long after I'd been taken off the dreaded watch, I was outside again. I had missed being outside while I was more or less incoherent. The grass under my butt was cool, and broken blades released a heady scent ripe with summer. The tree above me rustled in the wind. A sweeter sound I'd never heard, I don't think.

Rogue liked to sit with me on the rare occasion. She admitted to my stoic self that she'd seen me fall out of the tree the day she'd killed Mystique. (She had, in fact, sent Kurt to get Beast in the first place. I didn't have the heart to be mad.) She didn't say much else. Until, that is, today.

Getting the story back together after I lost track of time Dali-style. Oh, fun.

"Do ya think Ah did the wrong thing?" she said quietly. Her knees were tucked under her chin, bangs sweeping the holes in the denim to graze skin. I wondered why she wore jeans, but I suppose with her gift... careful was never enough.

"I don't know," I said honestly after a moment's thought. "You killed her. She was defenseless. But she hurt you, too. Those scars will take a long time to heal. So it's all up to how you justify it one way or the other."

I just love a good ethical quandary first thing in the afternoon.

Rogue sighed, and I chanced a look at her from the corner of my eyes. Tears streaked her pale face, but she didn't make a single noise.

Of course, the best thing about being a big foster brother is taking care of all your younger foster sibs. I slid a little closer, careful with my one arm not to brush any bare skin, and wrapped it around her shoulders. I could have sworn they trembled, just a little, like a sob desperately wanted to break free, but again, she didn't make a sound.

Yeah, I could have gone a little farther and soothed her angsting soul with platitudes like "Of course you did the right thing!" or "Way to stick it to the bitch!" But that's not how it works. Here, you face your actions and their consequences, no matter how long it takes.

I am a fantastic example of this.

And, of course, I could have let myself drown in the personal hell I created to escape my reality. But that's not going to solve my problems... in fact, it would only make them worse. Ten billion times worse.

I guess this is what being an adult is like. Threatening to your mental health and full of let-downs.

Oh well.

I gave Rogue another reassuring squeeze and stood, shakily. My balance was still shot to hell, and I needed to practice. Actually I needed to practice a lot of things. Like walking, leaning, playing sports, but most of all fighting. I had one heck of a journey sitting in front of me with that last one. Re-learning one-handed combat with Logan didn't sound like a fun time.

But it was necessary. Because I am going to get better. I am going to find Magneto and kick his tin-can ass. I am going to find Apocalypse and beat him with the arm he took from me, if I have to.

I am going to survive this. I've been beaten down before, but I'm Loki. I'll just get right back up and grin around the blood and shattered teeth.

I set off towards the mansion, for once my stride confident.

* * *

**A/N: **Holy shit, update?

Yes. Apologies. And review responses without names because I'm lazy! Concerning _Jasper: _He'll be around next episode. :P Concerning _Patrick: _Explanations will come, sooner or later. I hope. :D Concerning _original villains: _That's not til the sequel. Nope, not even then, probably if I do a third in the comic-verse I'll try my hand at new villains. Sorry~!

Right. Much love and wish for more free evenings like this, full of inspiration!


	45. Drat, There Goes Our Spotlight

"What the _hell_ do you mean Magneto's dead?"

If possible, every single person on the train who hadn't been subtly looking at me now was. Unsubtly.

I clenched my hand into a fist and resisted the urge to punch Scott and Jean, who now had both their hands over my mouth. Yes, both of them. Overkill much? I mean, it's not like people even remember who Magneto was. To my knowledge, I don't think he ever exactly announced his bid for future supreme overlord of the humans.

Oh man was I ever pissed. Can you blame me? Getting stronger so I could kick him from one end of the planet to the other had helped drag me from a hellhole of fractured sanity. And now he's gone and died on me. What an ass.

"While you were in the hospital, Apocalypse moved," Jean said in a soft voice. "He created this... energy dome over one of the old Mayan pyramids in Mexico. When we went to investigate, Magneto showed up and started attacking. Apocalypse created this force field around him and he just... vanished."

Just vanished. Just effing vanished! I bit my tongue to stop from spewing a slew of curse words into the ears of the innocent. That didn't stop them from shifting away at my murderous glare, though. As the subway rumbled along its track, I could have burned a hole through the floor with my eyeballs.

"I'm going to kill him," I said darkly. "Bring him back and, and... kill him!"

Why couldn't I have a cool power, like necromancy? Oh no, I get sparkly wind. Lucky, lucky me.

Silver flashes bit and cracked around my head. I irritably waved them away. Oh, did I mention I have to basically re-learn how to control my powers? Something about fixing it to my new body. Xavier went on about it for a long time and I was messed in the head so of course I wasn't listening. At least I have an excuse this time. So ha!

Scott gave me his patented 'I'm the Responsible Adult and You're Not' look. He didn't even deign to respond to my last statement. "We've got other things to worry about," he said calmly. "Apocalypse-"

I never found out what about Apocalypse I had to worry about (besides the obvious, that is), because the subway we were riding abruptly decided it didn't want to stay on its tracks anymore and fled. That is, my world turned almost upside-down and next thing I knew blood was streaming down my face from a throbbing spot high on my forehead.

I could feel heat licking at my back. Very quickly it turned from sort of pleasant to ow ow ow alright something is BURNING ME. I scrambled drunkenly, clawing at seats and railings and even a person. That's when I discovered another downside of being a cripple: you can't help anyone. Helping yourself is the most challenging thing to do.

Not that it stopped me from trying. Stupid ingrained X-Men instincts. I grabbed some kid's collar and shoved him towards the exit (or what I figured was an exit, being a giant hole punched in the roof), toppling over as soon as he'd gone. Then someone was grabbing _my _collar and I was moving forward.

_Thump._

My face met cool concrete while a foot jammed my ribs. I grunted in pain and people shuffled around, so when I rolled flat on my back there were about ten faces taking up all my vision space. One of them was even disturbingly familiar.

"He's severely injured, stay back," the man said, cool as a freaking cucumber. He pulled a medic bag out of damn nowhere and unwound a really, really long bandage. I assumed he was going for my head, but instead went straight for my shoulder, lifting my torso up so he could wrap it around. And, naturally, he'd pinned down my only good arm so I couldn't fight back.

Dr. Dumbass strikes again.

"Get off!" I snarled. "I'm fine! It's been like that. Get off!"

Jasper stared at me unflinchingly. I saw the wheels turning in his head, cranking towards the solution, and when he finally understood his movements became infinitely more cautious, like I was going to bite him if he moved too fast. Which I just might. Still haven't decided.

"You must be Loki," he said, taking the bandage off and discarding it off to the side. I awkwardly shoved him off, going for the spare pack of _my_ bandages I keep in the pockets of my cargo pants. It pays to be prepared, especially when you have a special dispensation for injury the way I do.

And of course I ignored him. He's just not worth the effort to respond to.

Pressing the wad of Loki's-blood-proof cloth to my forehead (I could feel the goose egg, it was enormous and promising a headache), I watched as Jasper took careful stock of everyone, taking care of those that needed it like the goody-two-shoes he was. Oh, sure, be a hero. Gag.

I spotted Scott helping the last stragglers out of the overturned subway and staggered to my feet. "Oi!" I yelled. "What's your damage report?"

"Jean and I are fine," Scott panted as he eased the young woman to the ground of the platform. "But we've got another problem." The words had hardly left his mouth before a ragged cheer blazed through the group. I smirked.

"We're awesome," I said, rolling my eyes, shrugging. "As usual."

Scott was silent. I could feel his gaze drift from me to over my shoulder. Not an easy thing, since I'm a giant beanpole.

I turned. My jaw dropped.

There, amid the survivors, stood the Brotherhood. Lance, Pietro, Toad, Fred, and even Wanda, all being clapped on the back and thanked and whatnot.

"What the hell?" I said, bewildered. I turned back to Scott. "What the hell?" I repeated insistently.

Speechless. That's what we were as we zombie-marched our way out of the underground station and into daylight again. None of us could think of anything to say except for my sentiment earlier, which pretty much summed everything up.

Downtown Bayville, aside from the one time I'd seen it, looked much better. Granted the last time I'd seen it, it was busy getting the living shit beaten out of it by a giant robot, but still. That sort of first impression sticks with a guy. So seeing people just walking down crowded streets with shops lining the sidewalks was a bit... strange.

We passed an electronics store, for no other reason than it was on the way. But that did nothing to improve our moods.

I think we simultaneously grew thunderclouds over our heads.

"And finally," the king dickhead announced from behind a podium, "I promise to get rid of the mutant menace! I promise to keep our children and their futures safe! Mutant registration is necessary!" Beneath his over-grown, pompous face appeared the words VOTE KELLY FOR MAYOR.

The glass protecting the t.v. sets shattered with a loud bang.

"Sorry," I spoke through gritted teeth. Scott simply ducked inside to hand the owner Xavier's number and within two minutes we were walking again, except somehow Kitty had caught up with us ("I saw the accident and tried to get there in time to help, but saw you just as you were leaving and went to catch up!") and was blinking at our bad 'tudes.

"Excuse me!"

I hiked my shoulders up to my ears and pretended the voice hadn't said anything.

"Loki!"

Damn it.

Turning, I scowled, not flinching as pain zinged through my right hand as I tried to tuck both into my pockets. "What?" I snapped.

Jasper walked coolly towards me, never breaking his even stride, briefcase-cum-hospital in his off hand, swinging merrily at his side. He gestured for the others to go on ahead and reluctantly they did. (Only after I got the 'Die and I'll Kill You' look from everyone, naturally.)

"I'd like to speak with you? About a few things. To clear the air." He waved one hand in front of his face. "Do you like coffee?" Blanching slightly at my evil grin, I happily agreed and we set off for some local place he claimed was just around the corner. I was mildly surprised when it actually was. Damn paranoia.

"Here, let me get that for you." He took two big steps for me and grabbed the door. I scowled.

"I'm not incapable," I bit out. "Just handicapped." Go me. And go sarcasm. He didn't even have the balls to look ashamed, just acquiesced and went on in.

Poor kid.

I have the metabolism of a crazy starving child. So I bought just about every kind of foodstuff available, along with two pops and the largest (most caffeinated) beverage they offered. Jasper looked at me like I was insane, but this would be the biggest meal I'd had since before my accident. I didn't give a flying fuck.

We sat down at a table, me and him, me eating like a lunatic and him playing with the cardboard thing they put on cups so idiots don't burn themselves. Finally he sighed. "Grace seems pretty taken with you. I don't suppose I have a chance any more, do I."

"Nope," I said smugly. "In fact, next time I see her, I can finally ask her something I've been wanting to for a long time."

Had been asking her, technically, but who's wondering?

Jasper adjusted his glasses - funny, I don't remember him having those the first time I met him - and said nothing.

"What's wrong?" I finally said. Exasperated was the least of what I was capable of conveying. "You look like someone killed your baby."

"I love Grace," he said frankly. "I have since I was a kid. And now you come along, and you're..." He trailed off, glancing first at my watch (freshly relegated to my only remaining wrist) and then the empty t-shirt sleeve.

"A mutant. A cripple. But someone who loves her too." Another few moments spent inhaling precious empty calories. I didn't care. "I'm sorry." My own sincerity surprised me, and if that didn't mean Apocalypse was coming, I don't know what did. "Anything I can do to make it easier?"

A small smile tugged the corner of his lips. He tucked a lock of dark hair back into its rightful place and shook his head. Standing, gathering his stuff, he paused only for a parting sentence: "Don't invite me to the wedding, no matter what she says, alright?" And then he was gone.

Smart guy. Shame I wasn't ever going to see him again. But as far as final meetings go, it was a lot better than past examples I've had.

I finished everything I'd conned him into buying me, stopped at a trashbin three blocks down to puke most of it up again, and was well on my way back to the nearest bus stop when I heard the whispers that had been circling around me. Not about me, for once; about the heroes of the day, the Brotherhood. Oh gag me with a spoon. Heroes? Them? Circumstance. Nothing more.

"I heard the mayor's honoring them by letting them cut the ribbon at the zoo opening this afternoon!"

Back the effing truck up.

I sidled closer to the two women who were gossiping. Thank goodness I'm not conspicuous at all.

"They saved all those innocent people on the subway," the first one gushed. "It's unbelievable!"

"I know! And so selfless. They deserve it. Maybe mutants aren't all bad, if they do stuff like that."

"Kelly might want to tone it down if he wants the office. Public opinion is a fickle mistress." The first one nodded like she knew every secret associated with politics.

The other lady lifted one shoulder in a delicate shrug. I didn't stick around to hear the rest of their chat. Oh, no, I struck off east, where the new zoo was. Looks like it's time for Loki to pay a visit and ask his acquaintance some questions.

When you're a sulky teenager wearing a black shirt and black cargo pants walking around with only one arm, people tend to give you a really wide berth. So I made good time to the zoo, which turned out to be more crowded than I'd hoped. But the good news was, I could see Wanda, standing off to the side looking extremely uncomfortable. Since the ceremony apparently hadn't started yet (despite the massive throng of idiots waiting), I motioned for us to meet off to the side. She nodded.

I slipped through like I was made of butter. Wanda cocked her head at me, blinking owlishly. "So?" she said expectantly.

"So? What the hell is going on? Since when are you guys the good guys? I thought that was our thing."

She did the weirdest thing. Instead of berating me, or hurting me, she... looked guilty, actually. "It was my fault for wrecking the subway," she said quietly. "I feel terrible. My father raised me better."

Cue narrowed eyes. Something was up.

"Wanda," I said slowly, "what do you remember about Magneto?"

"He loved me," she said earnestly. "He cared for me. He didn't abandon me when I went out of control; he helped me learn to own my powers instead of letting them own me."

Dread curdled in my belly. _Fuck._

I opened my mouth to prove her wrong. I wanted to shake her until her head popped off and she regrew her damn brains. But she melted back into the group and reappeared up front, where the mayor was handing a pair of scissors to Pietro. Pietro grinned maniacally. He looked like he wanted to lop off heads instead.

Unsurprisingly, things got ugly fast.

Our whole crew was doing supervision. I was furious, and I had no control to begin with. So naturally when we began to glow a faint red I knew something was up... well, that and the fact a jarring silver blast whipped from my body, tearing through the pavement like it didn't exist.

Everyone tried to stop me, but every time _I _tried to stop me, I just ended up making things worse. Jean would use TK, my blasts would bend around it. Scott would try a low-power beam to knock me out, it would hit a panicking citizen. Kitty stuck six people in the ground up to their waists. Kurt and Rogue were missing. Probably at therapy. Thank goodness. I can't imagine how terrible it would be if Rogue's power went batshit.

My destructive rampage was ended shortly by two gnats biting into my chest. I looked down, saw the trailing wires, and had time for a final thought of _shit this is going to hurt _before the tasers went off and I went down.

* * *

Long story short: we all ended up in jail.

Me, I ended up tied to a bed in an extra security cell.

Oh, fun.

Due to our blatant disregard for the laws of 'normal humans', we were stuck for at least a week. I saw Kitty phasing in and out just to stick her tongue out at the guards, though, and I applauded her. Silently.

"I'm bored," I yelled. In the block next to mine, Scott snorted.

"Shut up, Loki, we're all bored."

"Oh, Romeo," I sang in a falsetto, "do me a favor and read me some poetry?" It was about time for the paper to come. And boy had it been good reading.

The Brotherhood did this. The Brotherhood saved that little girl. The Brotherhood's mansion is being renovated by a generous donation. Blah, blah, blah. Disgusting.

"They didn't make the front page," Scott said after a moment. The familiar shriek of an ancient key in an ancient lock ground in my ears as the officer walked in with my food shake. They took such special precautions. How kind. I sucked that puppy down in ten seconds flat. Less taste that way. And don't even get me started about the bedpan.

"Oh, bet Pietro'll be pissed."

A small buzzing sound interrupted my next snarky comment. I looked up as best I could to see the guard that had just fed me now with an ugly look on his face, undoing the lock with Xavier on his heels. I held my tongue as he undid all the thick leather belts and handed me my clothing. But I didn't try and put it on. That was a struggle best undertook in private.

"Has it been a week already?" I wondered aloud. Xavier shook his head as I caught up to him with the rest of the group.

"The Brotherhood have overstepped their bounds," he said seriously. I perked right up. A mission. Just what the doctor ordered to clear out the cobwebs. "They've sabotaged a train in hopes to garner more attention. But it's on a collision course for a gasoline tanker."

Big boom. Idiots.

"All right!" I crowed, pumping my fist. "Let's do this! X-Men to the rescue!"

I couldn't help but feel uneasy as everyone looked at me with something akin to apology in their eyes. The rest of my old crew took off towards the door. I slumped.

"I can't go, can I."

"With your injury and your recent mental recovery, it's not safe. For you or anyone else."

I wanted to yell. I wanted to protest at the top of my goddamn lungs. But what good would it do? He'd tweak my brains, perfectly justified by his moral standards, and I'd wake up back in the mansion, perky as a morning person.

"I hate this," I growled. Silver wind whip-cracked out around me, all show and no oomph. Xavier simply moved forward, and I followed like the perfectly trained dog I was. Helpless, I was, helpless and weak.

"I know."

We waited outside near the car for close to an hour before Xavier reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cell phone. With evening dusk beginning to threaten, he simply made an affirmative noise and gestured for me to get in. As soon as he turned the vehicle on, the radio began spewing a slew of Kelly's anti-mutant bullshit. I smashed the button to shut it off.

"How long is it going to take before I'm allowed to fight again?" I finally asked as he crawled through the city traffic. Careful driver, he was, for being paralyzed. Hey! We can be cripple buddies. Goodie.

Xavier flicked on his blinker and took us onto a side road where he sped up a bit. I could see the mansion in the distance, cresting a hill. Home sweet home.

"A few more months." That sounds about right. A few months to get my powers back up to speed, get my reflexes working again, train with everyone willing to work with me... yeah. I bet I could do it in one, if I applied myself.

"Is that a challenge?" Xavier's voice was cool, but held a certain playful undertone I'd come to like when he was tutoring me. It meant a break from book work and doing fun things instead.

"Hell yes, old man. If I'm not battle worthy in a month, before my birthday, I'll be your whipping boy until the new year." I seriously hope I'm not signing myself up to be his bitch. Hello, motivation!

He chuckled, whether at the spoken or mental comment I didn't know. "Very well," he said, amused. "One month. Ororo, Logan and I will be giving you your examinations." That's not too bad... "Along with Scott's team and yours."

Damn.

I see hell in my future. But at least it's a willing hell. I smiled, turned my head towards the window, and waited.

Time to get to work.

* * *

**A/N: **Hey, would you let your student go wreck some trains if he'd just come down from the crazy bus? Of course not. That's what's fun about this, I get to make it realistic... sort of. (More like disappointing. Deal, peeps.) Also, there are... seven episodes left before I'm done. Seven and an epilogue, I think. So whoo! Also, I've got laptop access after bed, hence the ultra-fast update! Whoo! Questions, comments, notes and concerns can be left by review or PM. Thank you, ladies and gents, have a great night.

And to stave this off: the technicalities of Loki's injury. It was cut at about the apex of the shoulder, so Beast went ahead and took the whole arm joint out of the socket. But he still has a shoulder-nubbly thing, so he can shrug with both of them. No complaints!

See you... tomorrow! :D


	46. Wait, I Can Teach Like a Normal Teacher?

I've always wondered what it would feel like to take an eggbeater to my brain.

Well, not really. But now I know regardless.

These last two weeks I've been training my ass off. Literally. I dropped a pant size in five days, and had to go beg for spending money and buy a belt. Anyways, training. Oh yeah. Fun stuff.

Since I don't sleep and all that, it just gives me eight more hours in a day than I had before, so hey! Awesome. And I was bothering people to no end to help me out. Miss Ororo with control, Logan with combat, Scott and Jean with stealth, Kitty with speed, Kurt with tactics and Rogue with whatever she wanted, which was usually just more combat. I wasn't complaining. Girl has some issues.

I still wasn't anywhere even approaching where I'd been pre-loss-of-my-arm, but I want to be prideful for a second and say I was making good progress.

So the gods of Karma just had to smack me for that. And smack me did they ever.

Now people were starting to get _concerned_. I wasn't eating a whole lot, I was busy focusing! I have no intentions of losing this bet with Xavier, because I don't even want to think about what he would make me do if I lost! But the adults here seem to believe in taking a break. Which I don't.

They put me in charge of a class. A class full of my team, the New Mutants. A class being taught by Scott and Jean. A class with too many words in the title.

Please, please just shoot me.

I graduated school. I'm done. I can't go to college because I have no money and I'm a mutant, so I stuck around here for saving the world and free food. But no. Now I have to sit hyperactive children down in a room (which I think was a lab at some point) and teach them.

I'm a terrible teacher. No patience, too much penchant for breaking things. But this is my 'day off'. If Xavier finds me in the DR or practicing at all he'll call the deal off and I'll be doomed to a life of watching everyone else rush off with no regards for their own safety. I'd really rather not do that. I'd rather be doing the rushing right along with them.

Quickly I found myself stalking behind the group of kiddies I was supposed to educate. They all sounded dejected. Bobby even made mention of having talked to Logan with no luck. For what reason, I don't know. Maybe to knock out the teachers and take them off to la-la land for some cotton candy and ice cream.

Down a couple flights of stairs into the section of the mansion where everything is coated in metal (which seems really dumb when our former arch-enemy had the power of effing _magnetism_), past a few ominous-looking doors shrouded in shadow, and the NM group shuffled inside the very last room.

Pathetically, it had a sign taped to it: on a piece of printer paper, done in red marker, it read 'Classroom'. I sighed.

I pushed open the thick, heavy, ridiculous door with a grunt. Immediately I ducked to avoid Sam as he shot straight into the hall, laughing like a loon as he ping-ponged his way along.

Inside it was chaos. Scott and Jean were looking helplessly as the brats had a field day with their powers. The din instantly gave me a headache. Oh, this is going to be a long day...

"Excuse me!" Jean called. "Excuse me! Please, sit down!"

The only reason I even came close to understanding her was because I could read her lips. I had no sound.

I coated my first two fingers in a roiling kind of wind, held my hand up like it was a gun, and let go. The silver 'bullet' whip-cracked away, punching a hole in the ceiling and making a lot of banging sounds as it traveled upwards.

Everyone went dead silent. Much better.

"I want you all to sit down, shut up, and pay attention." My voice was deadly calm. I could see most of my team pale. They knew that tone; it meant Loki is going to kill us and we'd better act like we enjoy it unless we want to die again. (That's what happens when you put me in charge of a team. DR sessions were always interesting with them.)

Oh, did they ever. I'm training them well. Too bad they don't get treats. Mutant Snacks. Blech.

"Now, listen carefully." I made sure to glare at them all, collectively and individually. I've been practicing. "You might think you don't need this class. You might think you're practically X-Men already, since you've been training and you live here and you're mutants." I saw Bobby smirk. I stared him down until he flinched back. "Well, you're wrong."

"Why?" Chris drawled. "We're probably as good as you are. No offence."

"Oh, offence taken. Sorry dude." I flicked a little blade at him, taking off a couple hairs. He looked shocked, reaching up with an open mouth to feel his head.

"Loki, this really isn't-" I waved Scott back.

I shook my head. "No. It is." I turned back to the small group, staring at them, suddenly feeling weary. My stump ached. "This class is about physics and your powers. Well, I can tell you right now that this is more useful than you will ever imagine. For instance..."

I held out my left hand, looking at the gentle silver that played over my fingers. "If you have a power based on movement, what do you do if you're trapped? How can you judge where your powers will be useful and when they won't be?" My throat tightened. "How can your powers be turned against you?"

I felt the eyes crawling over me, over the empty space on my side, and forced a grin. "So unless you want to end up like me, take really good notes, alright?" Lighten the atmosphere, Captain Angst. Sheesh. "Just call me Professor Connors." A few snickers from some of the boys, but Amara was clueless.

Shame. I enjoyed Spider-Man.

"So, who wants to help your teacher with a demonstration, eh?" I tilted my head to one side, looking for the student that squirmed the farthest down in their seat, hoping to avoid being picked. "Roberto! Well done. Come on up." Face set in a grimace, he sluggishly walked past the other desks before facing me. He looked about as excited as a man waiting to be beheaded.

Hooray, I'm doing my job right after all.

"Jean, Scott?" I raised my eyebrows. "Whenever you're ready."

Scott pulled an apple out of his pocket (wow, infinite dimension in his pants much?) and set it atop Roberto's head. Jean grinned mischievously, raised her hand, and every student was suddenly floating near the ceiling.

"Reflection and refraction," Scott announced. He lifted his glasses with no warning, and even I drew back, wary.

But I didn't need to worry about anything. It bounced around like nobody's business, finally splitting the apple in two neat halves. Roberto's eyes couldn't have gotten any wider if that had actually been his mutation. Juice dribbled down his face.

I offered him my sleeve, but he didn't seem all that interested, mostly he just wanted to go crawl in a corner and shake in fear. It was only a low-powered beam! I've been hit with the higher ones, don't even give me that shit.

"Now, can you see how that would be helpful?" Scott pushed the sunglasses higher on his nose. "For example. I'm hiding around a corner and my target is out of sight. If I can get an estimate of the angles around me, I can bounce a blast and knock him or her unconscious, neutralizing the threat."

"But what about my powers?" Chris asked, thrusting his hand in the air. "I can't bounce electricity. Duh."

"Very true," I said. "But what can electricity travel through? If you're in a metal corridor, like ours, then you could just electrify the floor." A thought occurred to me; I followed that with, "Although, there is a problem with that plan. What is it?"

Chris was silent, until Jamie piped up, "If he had the team with him, he'd shock us all, not just the bad guy!"

"Very good," Jean said, nodding. "So physics and your powers doesn't necessarily mean learning to bounce it off walls. It means knowing what abilities you have and what you can do with your powers."

"You learn as you gain experience," I offered. "Your powers won't change, but what you can do with them will. It's all about knowing." Learn what you can do, learn what you can't. If I had recognized that I didn't have the ability to fight Apocalypse, I would be whole. But you can't change the past, so move on into the future, right? And these kids are the future.

"How about we go outside?" I suggested. "I hate learning in classrooms. Too stuffy."

Jean and Scott looked scandalized, but they'd been born in a damn school and come out already knowing everything about everything. After a hesitant look, they nodded. I herded the younger children towards the door, snapping when necessary. I'm such a good leader. Ha ha!

Another trek. Up the stairs, through the foyer, out the giant maple doors. It was a hot day, kind of cloudy, and the humidity was crushing. Lovely.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Jean asked me quietly as we trotted down the main steps. "We can learn well enough in a class, where there are books and worksheets-"

"Jean! Seriously." I waved my hand around. "They're kids. Barely teenagers. They don't want to spend all day cooped up in a lab-classroom reading from books that don't have any real-life examples. They learn best through doing, making mistakes, and fixing them."

I would know. How many times have I had to straighten out Bobby's attitude before he got the hint? How many times did I have to tell Amara she was a competent fighter before she could hit a moving target? Good gosh, I had to primp egos before they'd even go into the DR!

"Alright! Listen up!" I slapped my hand on my leg. Best I can do. "Two kids to one older kid. Do something new with your powers, and explore. Learn them, and it'll save your life one day!"

I shooed away Bobby to Scott and Chris to Jean, taking Jamie and eventually Sam as he wandered over. I waved them over to a shady spot beneath the trees, nodding for them to sit.

Now, don't get me wrong. I hate kids. Immature brats. But these were _my _immature brats, which made them... tolerable. So I awkwardly fell back to my rear, leaning against the rough bark, and said, "Alright. What're you thinking?"

They shrugged.

"Well, let's start by you telling me what you know about your abilities. Jamie, you first."

Twelve. That's how old he was. Maybe thirteen. But he still had a baby's face, which scrunched up in thought. He tapped his knee impatiently.

"I multiply when people hit me," he finally said. He had probably wanted to say it more impressively, but his succinctness was much more appreciated. "And I can do it by myself if I concentrate." He looked to the grass, dejected. "That's it."

"And a useful power, don't forget." Damn that child, looking at me like I was his hero. Stop! "Sam?"

He ran a hand through his dusty blond hair. "Well," he drawled, "I fly around really fast and break things. I'm a cannonball."

So it wasn't the most impressive definition, but hey. I'll take it.

"What about you, Loki?" Jamie asked. "Describe your power."

"You've seen it enough times when I'm trying to hit you, brat."

He stuck out his lower lip, and I gritted my teeth. "Fine." I held up my hand and let the wind play around in my palm. "I create and control silver wind. I can make it blunt or sharp. If I use my own momentum, it's more powerful, but I can hold it bottled up, in a way, to help the power as well. I've learned to make it big, small, and versatile. Which is what the goal is with you guys: make your powers versatile." The physical mutations, besides being obvious, weren't the focus for today.

They nodded, faces set. I grunted softly as I pushed myself to my feet, and when they kind of moved forward to help, I wanted to punt them across the lawn. But I restrained myself and hissed instead. That made them back the truck up.

"Jamie," I called. "So you duplicate when people hit you. Try running around and duplicating from that kind of motion. And then why not let your duplicates run around and explore? Can't hurt. I doubt they get out much."

Jamie snickered and took off towards the forest at a dead sprint, full of childish energy. I envied his innocence for a moment before I gave myself a fierce mental shake. Protect the next generation, keep them safe. You'll be fine.

"Sam." He looked at me blandly. "Go fly around as fast as you possibly can, and then go faster. And feel free to break stuff, as long as it isn't me or yourself. Practice moving in mid-air, changing directions and the like."

And so I got to sit back and take a break while I watched bursts of lava, sun energy, electricity, ice, and Sam flash out across the sky.

Have I ever said that I love this place? I don't think I have. But it's so much better than anything I've ever had in my life, and I don't want to be afraid to say it. Especially after the terrible way I was removed from my house when I lived with Patrick. So there. I love this place.

You hear me, Xavier? I bet you're snooping in my brain again. So you don't need to worry, I'm going to be stuck on your ass like glue, buddy.

_That's not appropriate, Loki. _I grinned triumphantly. _You can protest that you don't like your team, but you hold them in a very high regard. I'm very proud of you. Please, continue with your teaching. You might find you enjoy it... Professor Connors._

I swallowed the barking laugh that wanted to burst from me and instead doubled over, coughing and choking.

Closet comic reader. Who would have thought.

Lucky I was still bent over because Sam blasted over me, and when I glanced over my shoulder I saw a furrow dug in the ground, trees split and warped along the sides. At the end was a crater, and in that crater...

"That was sweet!" Sam crowed. He pumped his fists wildly, a grin threatening to split his face in two. "Did you see me? Huh, Loki? Did you?" Laughing, I jogged over and responded that I had, and it was awesome, all the while pulling him up.

I dusted dirt and leaves from his shoulders. He'd be tall, that was for sure. "So, what did you learn?" I said patiently, but I was smiling too.

"I can go backwards!" He mimed holding his hands out. "It's not just from my legs, I can go _backwards_! I bet if I practiced long enough I could do it fast and confuse anything that's chasing me!"

I pointed to the crater. "What else?"

He blinked, tucking his hands in his pockets. "I dunno."

"I'll give you a hint." I gestured to myself. "If I had done that and landed in the ground, I'd be a bloody smear." It dawned on Sam, then, and he gaped.

"So, I'm, like, invincible or something?"

"Go figure that one out." Which was Loki-code-speak for you've satisfied me for right now, get the hell out of my face. But with a loving tone. He took off running and then was in the air, zipping back and forth over the mansion.

It struck me, then, that there was a time when Sam couldn't have done that. If any of us had done too much flashy stuff, we would have been found out, raided, maybe even killed. But now, at least we had the ability to be ourselves without worrying... too much.

Another ten minutes passed before Jamie wandered back over to our tree, panting and slightly crispy. He must've been over by Chris or one of the others. I tilted my head, waiting for his report.

"My duplicates can duplicate," he said in between breaths. "And when they come back to me, I know what they know!"

"Like how it feels to be electrocuted?" I said with a grin. Jamie laughed nervously, trying to rub away the soot on his shirt.

"Like how I know Jean and Scott are having way more fun than they'll ever admit," he boasted. "They really like teaching!"

"And I don't. Get out of my face, you're done for today." I waved him off. And when he didn't leave, I almost started to use my blunt winds to smack him in the necessary direction. Almost. But I'm actually a nice person, so I didn't.

"What do you want?" I snapped. "I'm not teaching you anything else today. Or ever, hopefully." In fact, now that I've done my thing, I ought to get back to training. I can feel myself losing muscle mass.

"Just, thanks," Jamie said. And then-

-he hugged me.

He _hugged _me.

My physical interactions are severely limited. Grace is alright, and Mom is getting there. But I don't let people touch me, because that's weird, and I'm a paranoid bastard. So naturally my first instinct was to fight and get the hell away, but I snuffed that. So I went with option two: stay really still and hope the playing dead approach works.

"You're the best big foster brother ever," Jamie mumbled into my chest. "Thanks."

If at all possible, I went even stiller. I was channeling stone here, people.

And before I could make my lungs and voice work again, he was gone.

I hate kids.

Eventually the afternoon wore on, as time always inevitably does. Jean and Scott finished with their students much later than me, mostly because they have a thing called patience which I don't. All of my team seemed satisfied.

I still couldn't fathom why Jamie did that to me. I've not been anything other than be an ass-kicker to him and the rest of the New Mutants. But apparently that endears me to them... don't ask me to dissect their brains, it's not going to work. I'm busy.

Oh well. There's a punching bag in the basement calling my name. Guess it's just something to ponder while I work on helping myself and my own powers...

* * *

**A/N:** Well hello there all you peeps. Good to see you again. I've been worried. After all... yeah, nevermind, I'm just being stupid. :D

Our countdown status: SIX EPISODES LEFT OMFGCAPSLOCK. Cool!

Sorry for the lack of Logan and X-23. I thought the teaching story would be more fun to write, and it was. All notes, comments, concerns, and even random factoids are much appreciated and can be left via review or PM. Peace out, see you next time, which should be soon because I have no job or life! Hooray... sort of.


	47. Enter Son, Stage Scotland

The morning of my eighteenth birthday, I did not expect to wake up from a very stunning series of Apocalypse-induced nightmares. Hell, honestly, I didn't remember passing out in the first place. But holy goodness, I got the entire mansion up and running when I started screaming like a loon.

I was curled up in a corner where I'd made a nest of every blanket that had been in the rec room, my teeth chattering and sweat pasting hair to my forehead. Goosebumps raged up and down my arms despite the fact I was roasting alive. In front of me squatted and/or stood most of my team and all of my old team along with the Professor, Logan, Beast, and Miss Ororo.

"Are you alright?" Miss Ororo calmly asked. My right arm - the ghost of it, at least - rippled with pain and I winced, barely, but enough for her to see. A crease appeared on in between her eyebrows.

"I'm fine," I bit out. Chomping down on my tongue helped stop that damn chattering, at least for a moment. "Sorry for waking everyone up." Again. I need to work on that.

"It's not a problem," Xavier said. "In fact, Ororo and I needed to be up about this time anyways. So we should be thanking you." Everything about his mannerisms seemed... mildly off. Like strained, tense, I really just want to kick something except I'm crippled well shit off. I stared blankly back at him.

Last time I'd noticed something was off, the Professor had turned out to be Mystique, and she'd blown up our house. I wasn't taking any chances.

"Is something wrong, Professor?" I said politely. I was wound tenser than a spring, ready to leap up and protect the people I cared about.

"I will explain everything en route," he murmured. "Jean, Scott, Ororo, please report to the Blackbird within the hour." I blinked. Oh? "Loki, please come along."

Not even time for a shower? Ah, damn. Oh well. I struggled into a shirt, glaring at one of the kids who tried to help, and slipped past the crowd of people sleepily muttering and staring at me. News flash, people, party's over. Go back to bed.

They started to trickle off, Kitty sneezing three times as she wound through the halls, the sound echoing back to my ears. I shrugged. Her fault if she gets sick, not mine. I could see the Professor looking back and forth, sometimes talking to Miss Ororo, sometimes silent. I just followed behind, nice and discreet, as we dropped through the levels of the mansion.

The bowels of our home had skipped the renovation party because they hadn't been blown to smithereens. But still, every time I beheld the enormous metallic halls stretching into seeming infinity, I had to gape.

I lived in the coolest place in the freaking world.

Quickly enough we entered the chamber with the jet, boarding in a rush. I was already strapped in my usual chair when I realized I didn't put any pants on, which spoke untold amounts about my mental state. Fantastic. I'm going to where-the-hell-ever in my black skull boxers. Just my luck.

I didn't get the chance to point out my lack of attire to the adults, because as soon as Scott and Jean staggered in, yawning behind their hands, the Blackbird was shooting out of the cliff, clouds whipping past my window. It was pretty, but I wasn't exactly in the mood for pretty things. I wanted to know what was going on to make the Professor act all zombie-fied.

"Alright, where are we going?" I burst out. So much for patience.

"Scotland." Xavier glanced back at me. "There is business to take care of, and I may need your help." He looked like he was going to say something else but his phone rang, and he began a heated and low conversation with the other person on the line.

"Why are we going to Scotland?" I whispered to Scott.

"No idea. Jean?"

"Don't look at me."

"Mystery birthday trip to Scotland," I said to myself. "Not exactly what I'd planned." Which reminded me. If I'm going to be across an ocean, I'd better tell Grace not to expect to see me today... damn. I really wanted to hang out with her and show her my new accessory: sanity. But alas.

At least she won't be too mad. I hope.

In my defense, she really should be used to this by now.

I'll spare you the boring details of the long plane ride. Suffice to say when we landed, I'd found a pair of sweats somewhere in a cupboard, I figured out that Jean snored disturbingly deep for a woman, and Scott used his sunglasses to disguise the fact that he had human-like needs, meaning rest.

No joke. He was straight-backed and serious and silent the entire way. I thought he was just being stick-up-his-ass Scott. But it turns out he'd been asleep the entire time.

Yeah.

So when the ramp lowered and we all stepped out, I was completely taken aback by the woman who was standing there, foot tapping impatiently.

She was dressed immaculately, even had the pearls 'round her neck just to add to the image of the stern businesswoman. I could practically see the steam building to blow from her ears. For whatever reason we'd been asked to come here; two adults and three teenagers, all of whom looked like they'd been dragged out of bed to come. Which we all were, but seriously, that makes our image of awesome butt-kicking superheroes kind of die a tragic death.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Charles," she ground out, doing her best to be polite. Man! She sounded like she couldn't stand the sight of him. I wonder what their thing was... or is?

_Bam_! Unknown important fact numero uno.

"I'd like to introduce you to my team," Xavier said. "One of the instructors at my institute, Ororo Munroe. And these are three of my eldest students. Scott, Jean, and Loki." Xavier turned to us, face set. "I'd like you to meet my ex-wife, Gabrielle Haller."

I was too busy picking my jaw up off the ground to register her complaints about Xavier not taking her request seriously. And then...

_Bam_! Unknown important fact numero dos.

She was raging, pacing a tight little circle back and forth. "...it's like you don't even care! He's your son, for goodness' sake!"

This time, I actually took a step back.

Xavier had a kid?

In _Scotland_?

My ass hit the grass. Jean started to kneel down next to me but I waved her off, instantly claiming jet-lag. She saw right through my bullshit but didn't call me out and instead lifted one shoulder in a light shrug. I didn't bother to follow them as they stepped inside the giant house we'd landed in front of. They'd just brief me in a manner my short attention span could handle shortly afterwards.

So. Xavier had a son, did he. Weird. I wonder why he's never been around? I mean, the chances of him being a mutant have to be pretty freaking high. And son of the great mind-master Charles Xavier... of course, powers themselves don't get passed down, just the ability to use a power in general... but still. That kid's gotta be tough.

Also, finding this out now... kind of stung, I guess.

Collectively, all the adults are like my parents now. They take care of me, especially because I can't do it myself. (You all can see that very plainly.) But Xavier is the only one I've ever even thought about in that way specifically... a surrogate, a foster father. But all this time he's had his own son. I was just a fill-in-the-blank. We all were.

Depressing.

I've gotten scarily good at pushing away what's eating me for the good of something or someone else. So I locked up the semi-hurt and mostly confused feelings when Jean came pelting out of the front doors, chasing after... well, all I could see was a spot of blond hair, so maybe a little kid?

Wait, does Xavier have more than one spawn? Oh, shit.

I took off jogging, glad for the ease that practice gave me. I'm so confident in myself, I've even stopped carrying a puffer around. So there. In your face, asthma!

When I found Jean, she was gently approaching the kid - who, might I add, had a very creepy blank expression on his face. Like, worse than no one's home, it was more like dude, this house ain't even built yet, stop looking for lights already. I came around slightly so Jean could see me and held out my hand in a placating gesture.

Well, it was placating until the ring of fire spontaneously appeared. Then I fired off a series of blasts, mostly aimed to incapacitate (mostly... sorry, paranoia again), none of which connected. Damn it! She's trapped in the magic circle and I'm out here with the one power in the whole freakin' world that'll make the situation worse, not better. Stupid winds!

The kid vanished in a haze. I whirled around, senses tingling, every hair standing on end. Someone was watching... someone powerful.

Jean screamed. I started to run towards her, imagining the ass-kicking Scott would give me if I didn't, but mid-leap I was halted, flailing above the flames.

"Interestin' little creature, you are," a male voice said, brimming with sarcasm and Scottish accent. I couldn't move much other than struggle a little, so I didn't get to see his face. "Let's take you along for the ride, shall we?"

It was the last coherent thing I heard before mental pain split my skull in two. I retreated into blackness.

* * *

Bad punk rock accompanied my rise to the land of the living. Curiously enough, the massive headache I had was pounding in time to the music. I groaned.

"Oh, damn." I tried to stand, realized too late my ankles were cuffed together, and fell back onto my face. "Owww," I whined, sucking air through my teeth to ease the tears. Luckily enough, my nose broke my fall. Joy.

I didn't see another soul nearby, and the owner of the mysterious Scottish accent was notably missing. Which wasn't so bad in itself, because I didn't want to see him right now (for obvious reasons). But explanations would have been appreciated right about now.

I swung my legs around and sliced neatly through the connector of the shackles. Standing, wobbling slightly, I took in my surroundings.

Let's see. Stone walls, made of some beige rock. Stone floor. Stone rubble strewn about. I looked up. No stone ceiling, but it was high enough that I didn't carry a torch for getting out that way.

"Hello?" I called. My voice was hoarse. I tasted blood in the back of my throat; I probably bit my tongue somewhere along the way. Or got punched in the face. Either one works. "Is anyone there?"

I was met with a shower of bottles from on high and then a crowd of faces peering over the rim to laugh. They were an eclectic bunch, if you were going on their hair color alone. I lifted my arm up to my face and was rewarded with my watch promptly bursting into smoke and dying with a sharp crackle.

"Shit!" I swore. And damn it, now I smell like a freakin' liquor store! "Hey!" I yelled. "Knock it off!"

"Hey, nice hair!" someone cat-called.

"You're one to talk!" Oh, man, I was furious. I wanted out and I wanted out now. "Get me out of here!"

They conferred for a moment. "Alright," they shouted cheerfully. "Wait just a mo'."

Wait, that actually worked? Oh, man, teenagers are idiots. Especially younger ones. Good grief.

About half of the blurry faces disappeared while the other half stood at the top of my well-prison and whispered. I couldn't make anything of what they were saying, but it was creepy and irritating just the same. As I was about to yell at them to hurry the hell up, a rope dropped down in front of my face, coming very close to hitting me on the head.

Oh, damn.

I can't climb ropes any more.

"Hey!" I called. Most of the people went silent. "I'm going to tie a loop around and step in it. You guys need to pull me up, okay?"

"Do it yourself you lazy sod!" someone yelled. Cheering followed a second later. I held my temper in check.

"I can't," I said through gritted teeth. "I only have one arm."

Dead silence. Then, a chorus of "Ooohhh's". I busied myself tying the knot, trying not to think of all the jokes they were probably cracking at my expense or the pity and barely disguised discomfort they'd shortly be expressing. I'd been out in public, I know how the whole thing went down. People just don't like cripples. Makes them feel all weird and guilty.

I tugged on the rope, one foot in the loop I'd just made, and hung on for dear life. It took them a couple minutes to sort everything out, but faster than I'd thought I was up and out of the hole in the ground. I say again: _teenagers are idiots._

"Well, he's a bit like Lucas, yeah?" a girl murmured. She had more piercings than I could ever bear, a lime green mohawk, and a skirt that showed the barest edge of her red panties. I felt blood slam in my face. A few of them chuckled.

Lucas. Who is Lucas?

I slapped a questing hand away from my head, cursing as I realized, once again, my inducer was toasted. Lucky freakin' me. They were all staring: my arm (or lack thereof), my hair, my ears, my face. I bared my teeth. "Tell me where Jean is," I snarled.

"Who's Jean?"

"Jean? Like, American trousers or something?"

My patience disintegrated. I balled my hand into a fist and snapped it out. The unfortunate kid I hit dropped like a sack of potatoes and everyone immediately took off at a dead run.

Which left no one to interrogate.

I really need to plan these things a little better.

Karma must have been on my side (despite me being a dumbass) because not two seconds after the broken-down castle scene was vacated Jean tumbled out from... somewhere, a blond kid in tow, his nice (read: expensive) clothes dirty and torn. Sucks for you.

Jean spotted me and grinned. The kid spotted me and stopped right in his tracks, mouth open. My brows drew together. Oh, bigotry, seems I can't escape you even in Scotland. Stupid not alcohol-proof watch.

I was the one, incidentally, to find Scott. Jean, the kid (I figured it was David, but he looked about twelve) and I were slowly making our way through the rubble just in case this mysterious Lucas person decided we were better off dead. I caught a splash of green against the sand colored stone; I separated from the group and bit my tongue.

Chaining him up. His chest rose and fell in sharp, fast pants; wasn't there something about poisoning if you were kept with your arms in a certain position too long? I sliced through the iron and took off the heavy metal helmet, tossing it aside as best a cripple could. Scott coughed, wheezing. "Is Jean alright?"

And... cue annoyance.

"Yes, lover-boy, she and the brat are a few steps behind us." He peered over my shoulder and sure enough, the pair rounded the bend just in time. Oh, if I had a nickel for every Hallmark moment those two have had. I'd be one rich little freak.

Hip hip hooray, our family is together again. And, what do you know! There's the proud baby-daddy waiting with the bitch-mom. I let Scott and Jean escort the kid back to Xavier. I didn't want anything to do with their weird little pow-wow. Xavier may be his bio-dad, but he was mine. The person I could talk to. The person I trusted. Not David's. (Avoiding the group didn't have anything to do with my freakish face. Not at all.)

"I'd like to introduce you to your father, David," Bitch-mom said. "Charles Xavier." David obligingly stuck out his hand and said something quietly.

And then he turned into a midget.

Well, maybe not a midget. But he definitely shrunk, and he definitely got a lot younger. In fact, that smudge of blond looked a lot like the one Jean was chasing when she was eaten by a ring of fire.

And then David was back, his image wavering like a mirage. "It's Lucas!" he cried. "He wants-"

New person. How many repressed personas does this David guy have? Seriously. The kid was enough. Trust me.

Xavier cried out in alarm, wrenching his hand back. We all watched in horror as Lucas rose into the air, hands held up, cackling like a madman. I took the first initiative and fired a blade of wind at him. He deflected it without even paying attention, still laughing, still rising.

"How's it feel, Daddy?" Lucas sneered. He was the oldest I'd seen around here excluding the adults. He even had a tuft of hair on his chin to go with the lip piercing and the weird poofy sleeve/poet vest combo. Very Renaissance. "Can't stand the sight of your precious little boy? Well, thanks for nothing!"

And I thought I had issues with my dad. Hell, even Wanda pre-mind-fuck was getting nervous in her first-place standing for Father Troubles.

What did we all do? Well, the evil woman bolted while the rest of us clustered around the back of Xavier's wheelchair. What a sissy. You'd think she had never faced down a crazy person before.

Okay, that might just be us, but still.

I could tell the instant that Xavier flung his mind into David/Lucas's, because he went from being stiff as a board to limper than a wet noodle. And then he seized. I clamped down on his arms as Jean worked to get his head in the right place so he didn't swallow his tongue. Scott was casting glances up at the rigid Lucas (still floating, mind you), Xavier's legs wrapped in a bear hug.

"Jean!" I whispered, but it was harsher than I had intended. "Go help him!"

"I've never done anything except read minds, Loki, you know that!"

Xavier's eyes rolled back so nothing but white was showing. Lucas drifted a little higher, his stony face cracking for an instant so it showed a hint of teeth.

"Go, now!" I screamed. "Unless you want Lucas to kill him!"

Scott spared a moment to touch Jean's leg and give her a reassuring glance. Oh, gag. She separated herself, leaving me to make sure Xavier didn't die (stupid move, woman!), pressing her fingers against her temples.

Ten seconds later, the wind whipping Jean's hair into a frenzy that looked like flames, Lucas dropped to the ground like a stone, his image hazily wavering back to David. But the kid didn't move. I wasn't about to go check for a pulse; however, Xavier reanimated, brushed me off, and took off as fast as his wheelchair-bound ass could go.

I watched him bend over and stretch to press his fingers to David's throat. But it didn't bother me. Much.

Much.

So, yeah. We boarded the jet after bitch-woman got David off to the hospital, Xavier giving me and the rest of the crew the silent treatment. We hadn't really helped much. In fact, I think we made it worse.

I propped my arm up on the ledge near my seat, watching the clouds fade past us, sunlight sparkling off the ocean. A cheerful scene, despite the fact I needed a new watch (again) and Xavier's son was basically doomed to be a spud for the rest of his natural life. And I hate to say it, but a veggie is a lot better than a hell-bent psychopath with a vendetta against you. So suck it.

Fun fun. Sending in Jean helped him, true, but it also kind of killed the mental people David had in him. My bad. I flicked a piece of hair out of my eyes.

Happy birthday to me, I guess.

He's never going to be my father. I'm always going to be a freak. Chances are, I'll make the wrong decision under pressure. All facts I just need to accept.

I sighed. Happy birthday... failure.

* * *

**A/N: **FIVE LEFT OMG. My personal favorite is next! I have been looking forward to it since... a long time! :D

Ha ha. You all are the best peeps in the whole interwebz. Any questions, comments, news, notes, concerns, or random trivia can be left via review, PM, or carrier pigeon. (Guess who's been watching Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood videos on youtube? That would be me. XD ) Peace out until next time!


	48. Human? Nope, Puke Blood Instead

Panting, wheezing, unable to catch my breath. Panic coursing through me, slamming blood to my extremeties, making my fingers tingle. Look over my shoulder, fling a blade as best I can from an awkward position - I just need to get a little farther-

I could see the flag. I could also see the horde of people guarding said flag, and I momentarily despaired. My training took over, analyzing, scouting around from every angle, looking for a weakness, a point of entry. There! Amara wasn't paying attention. Dodge an ice beam, duck into a roll to avoid Sam as he whizzed past overhead, and a single flash of my hand had the young woman on the ground, moaning.

Ruthlessness: not a quality Xavier was looking for, but perhaps one I could capitalize on.

I could see the scrap of cloth that embodied everything I wanted: just a small thing, black with a yellow X, tied to a metal pole. Ten yards. Eight. Five. Two-

A combination of red lasers and telekinesis slammed into my bad side. I yelped in pain, scrabbling in the dirt. Something heavy weighed on my back, and I saw a pale, bare hand stop inches from my face.

"Yield," Logan ordered roughly, catching up from behind me, releasing his blades and laying them on my back, just enough so I could feel them about to bite into my spine.

I bucked hard; Rogue fell off with a grunt of surprise. I did get cut, but it was worth it, because Logan jerked back, about to call the exam off, but I leaped and the flag was mine, in my hands, real and itchy and ha! Take that!

My legs wobbled and abruptly decided to stop supporting my weight. But it didn't matter, because I did it! I got the damn flag, me against the entire freaking mansion!

I was laughing on the ground like a crazy person, but I didn't even care. I was an X-Man again. They couldn't take it from me, no, not this time. I might be crippled, but I can still fight.

This was the final test of the day. Earlier on, I'd had to avoid my old team as they hunted me down - hide and seek - and then find and mark all of my new team - tag. And now, capture the highly guarded flag. I'd said I wanted to be tested, not play kids games, but they actually served their purpose; I could evade, track, and fight back just as well as any one of the X-Men.

Which was why, moments later, Xavier rolled down from the porch/deck thing and handed me my folded-up uniform, complete with an earpiece and an X badge. I (thankfully) was standing again at that point, and so took it with all the graciousness I had to offer.

Meaning I snatched that thing and was running around, screaming at the top of my lungs about how awesome it was to finally have a purpose again, how amazing I felt, until Logan grabbed me 'round the middle and dragged me back inside, took me all the way back down to the medbay, and put me on a bed with a firm, "Shut up and sit down!"

I was too busy being happy to care. That is, until Beast threatened to sedate me unless I sat still enough for him to patch me back together.

That shut me up pretty quickly. But I was practically quivering in joy (which is really freaking weird to think about) for the next hour, until I managed to escape back to the upper levels of the mansion, where a table just full of food was awaiting me. I, ever-hungry teenager, appropriately dug in.

You're probably wondering about the deal, right? Well, that's easy. Considering the day I turned eighteen Xavier's son decided to make an appearance and then suitably scarred all of us for life, Xavier postponed my test date a week back. So, at eighteen years and one week old, I was re-tested and put back into Xavier's crew.

Still unfortunately in charge of the New Mutants, but hey, at least I get to fight again.

Why am I so eager to get back in the death matches? Well, since Magneto's dead (stupidly) I have to get my catharsis somehow.

And if it just so happens to include bashing Apocalypse's head against a nice, big, thick wall... well, lucky me, right?

The party lasted pretty well into the night. No one really cared that school was starting up again tomorrow (we go early, how lovely) and that some of the younger kids were going to regret it when eight a.m. rolled around. But people were too busy being happy, happy that we were happy and happy that I was finally happy.

It didn't happen often. Apparently that's enough reason to celebrate around here.

Slowly, though, people began trickling out in one's and two's; nearing one in the morning, I was the only one still around, munching on some of the calorie-laden goodies we were normally forbidden to partake in. I was sitting backwards in a chair that I'd pulled up next to one of the big bay windows. Stars glimmered outside.

The peace was something I relished. The quiet helped keep my fragile sanity intact. The beauty made the nights that had once dragged into infinity seem bearable.

My comm beeped. I flicked my eyes downwards, to the X clipped at my breast, and I clicked the button. "Yeah?"

"Meeting in the strategy room," Xavier said shortly.

Static.

Pleasant fellow, he is.

I ditched my plate (I'll get one of my lackeys to clean up tomorrow - good training in patience) and jogged out, catching the elevator as it headed downwards. Another fast walk and I turned into the second door on the right, where an enormous table of the circular variety was stationed under an also enormous flat-screen.

Xavier was there, naturally; so were Beast, Logan, Miss Ororo, Scott, and Jean. I grabbed an open chair and waited.

The scene being played out spoke well enough for itself. I was aware of the weird dome things Apocalypse had been making; aware, but not interested. That is, until now, when he gave me a damn good reason to be interested.

It was China, this time. Stupid. Hadn't they been paying any attention? News coverage showed a small army of tanks and other destructive devices ringed around the swirling purple energy. But before we could all watch them being blown to bits by their own idiocy, Xavier flipped the t.v. off.

"I was watching that," I pouted. I received a stern glare in response.

No sense of humor, either.

"Of course, the situation in China remains one of our top concerns," Xavier said mildly. "However, we've stumbled across something a little more... local." He glanced back at Miss Ororo. "It seems your nephew has been spotted around town. He's vandalized some private property and threatened some humans."

She bristled. "Charles, I want to talk to him!"

He shook his head. "The same reasons from the last time still apply," he said gently. "You are too close. Too clouded by your own emotions. That is why I'm sending Logan and Loki to talk instead."

I, who had been imagining the various other things I could be doing at the moment, jumped at the sound of my name. "Eh?"

"Get suited up, kid, we're going on a treasure hunt," Logan growled sarcastically, nodding to the Professor before shoving himself from the table. I hastily did the same, over-compensating for the lack of a limb and nearly falling over. Jean smiled, offering me a gentle buoy of telekinesis, and I nodded thanks before taking off after the irate man.

* * *

"So, what d'you think the kid's gotten into this time?" I said idly, picking my way around something brown and lumpy that I didn't want to identify.

"Hell if I know." Logan lifted his face upwards, inhaling deeply, then grimaced. "Can't catch a damn scent anywhere in here," he grumped.

I shrugged. "Eh. Well, he's not dead yet, so I say, we gave it our best effort!" My cheerful tone wasn't lost on him, and he rolled his eyes.

But, alas, instead of agreeing and leaving the horrible sewers we were currently trekking through, he simply continued forward, as subtle as a rhino in an English tea party shop. I sloshed behind him, silently bemoaning the abuse of my new uniform.

Black spandex, with silver accents and a maroon X across my chest. It was fantastic.

It also smelled like shit, but whatever.

A faint tapping reached my ears, about the same time it did Logan's, from what I could tell.

"Haven't seen you guys in a while," a rough, familiar voice called. It echoed enough that we couldn't pinpoint the start location, but that proved unnecessary as - someone - stepped out of the shadows.

Wow. And I thought I was the one who changed in a year or so.

Evan was covered in pale golden armor, the same shade as the spikes he shot. It looked like samurai garb, actually, and from what I could tell, he had some muscles to go with the intimidating get-up.

"Yeah," I said, grinning. "Nice new looks. You do that on purpose?"

He flicked his dark gaze over me - judging me as an unknown variable, then as a non-threat - and widened his eyes as he saw the empty space. "Loki?"

"Same old, but now you can make all the cripple jokes you want."

Hesitant before, Evan now strode forward, clasping my hand and giving me a mischievous grin. "It's been a while," he said again. "Why are you here?" Evan was stiff, his eyes dark and glittering, one hand held at his hip in a loose fist. I silently applauded. Gone was the care-free idiocy, and here was a man ready to protect those who truly needed it.

"You've been topside and causing trouble," Logan said bluntly. "Knock it off."

"I can't," he shot back. "You might have the X to protect you - the mansion, a fancy training room - but here, they have me, and that's it."

Being intelligent for once in my entire life, I opted not to comment. Yes, he'd grown up a little - who hadn't? But he still was arrogant. If he really cared about protecting his people, he'd be organizing them for a day he wasn't around to protect them. Training them. Showing the little ones ways to escape. That sort of thing, you know?

Except no. It was Evan, and he had to carry the burden all by himself, otherwise it wouldn't be worth it.

I shrugged. "We-elllll," I drawled, "Logan, we gave it our best shot. Sometimes you just can't help the vigor of the young, eh?"

He snorted. Evan just looked at me, like I was a total stranger. Which, considering he'd left quite a while ago, it made sense. We were strangers, at least for the moment.

We exchanged our farewells, bid Evan to be safe - and to think first before doing something stupid - and carefully began re-tracing our path back topside. I stepped carefully on the three inch wide cement platform that walled in the river of crap; Logan, that absolute jerk, thought it would be funny to, as he later said, 're-test my reflexes'.

I used his shower to clean up. So it all evened out in the end.

Miss Ororo was disappointed we hadn't returned with Evan in tow, but after ditching my senior officer in a desperate hunt for cleanliness, I can only imagine the kinds of platitudes he would patch her up with.

"Well, it's not like the mansion's getting any bigger."

"Couldn't ever get that smell out of the carpet anyways."

Stupid.

Once I was sure I'd used all the hot water available for our county, I joined the rest of my former-but-still-actually crew as they crashed in the rec room. For once, it wasn't a tactical meeting or anything like that; Scott had gotten a new video game for our system and was gleefully shooting anything moving that appeared on the screen.

Even Kitty was getting into it. And Rogue, but the violence would have drawn her in. She's such a recluse... makes me worry.

What? Pot calling the kettle black? Shush.

I leaned against the back of the couch, wet hair falling in my eyes, blinking curiously at the screen. And, sooner than I could even put a shirt on, I was urging him to be careful, grab the ammo, DUCK!

As my shout reached the ears of everyone present, the sound of tinkling glass filtered up to our ears. Scott instantly had the sound muted, and I inhaled deeply, only to cough.

"Smoke!"

"Someone threw something into the downstairs dining hall! Carpet's burning!" That was one of my kids, screaming. Probably Jamie. Poor kid.

Kurt was down there in an instant, popping back only to reaffirm that, yes, there was a fire, before disappearing again. I lunged out of the room and into the kitchen, yanking open our enormous fridge to grab one of the gallons of water. Then I was taking off like a shot, desperately unbalanced but needing to help anyways.

The fire had spread significantly by the time me and my old team arrived. Smoke, thick, black, and choking, filled every corner. Flames licked the dark wood of the seats and table; it quested outwards, looking for more fuel. I dumped what little water I'd brought, watching helplessly as it puffed away into steam.

"BOBBY!"

He skated past me, aiming for the base of the flames, but his ice was melting faster than he could use it to cool down the burning parts. I grabbed his collar and yanked him back just as another glass bottle came hurling in through the window.

"Loki, we've got another problem!" Jean hollered. "Evan's downtown, Duncan and his gang are about to lynch some mutant kid!"

"Shit!" I cussed. "I'm coming! Grab Scott, we need to go!"

I didn't question how she knew; her powers came and went. Now, it seemed, they were here, because she lifted me off my feet before I had the chance to change back into my uniform. Next thing I know, we're hurling over apartment roofs and I'm still in my soot-stained civvies. Typical life of mine. I closed my eyes before I could vomit.

TK travel sucks. Just so you know.

She set us down just in time to avoid getting shot. I turned my head all around, assessing the situation.

Point one: Duncan and his friends had cars, and some kind of homemade laser gun. Point two: Evan was standing in an alley between two derelict buildings, face set in a snarl. Point three: A mother was huddling over her kid behind Evan, tears streaming down her face, brick dust and near-miss burns dotting her shirt. The boy was unharmed, but even at this distance I could tell he wasn't human. His skin was a shade of sickly green.

I flung my arm out, the resulting blade cleaving through the engine and splitting a car neatly in two. The driver shrieked, dropping the gun and flinching from the sparks.

Of course, being as awesome as I am affords little time to actually pay attention, so a shot clipped my shoulder, driving me to my knees. I grabbed my watch with my teeth and tore it off, shaking my head and hissing.

"You said you wanted to see my real face, Duncan," I snarled, forcing myself to my feet. "Well, here you go!" I fired another two shots off, shaving off the roof and a blunt wind cracking his windshield into a million pieces.

Duncan tumbled out, his football skills put to good use for once. His eyes narrowed, he stalked forward, squeezing off a few more rounds. I dodged them easily, though my shoulder twinged a bit, and returned him the courtesy. A gash opened up on his forehead, sending blood cascading into his eyes, allowing me the advantage of a few seconds to run up and tackle him to the ground.

I wasn't near as big as he was, muscle wise, but I was wiry and fast. A quick punch to the nose left him almost completely blinded; he clutched his face, allowing me to jump back and deliver a powerful kick to his stomach. He lashed out in agony, ripping my feet out from under me, and with only one good arm, I couldn't catch my fall as well. Stars exploded behind my eyelids.

Duncan and I traded blows for a few more seconds until Jean intervened. She dragged him up and backwards, yanking the gun from his hands, then sent him spinning into a pile of trash bags. I spat out a globule of blood and glared.

"I could have finished him," I growled.

"This isn't about retribution," she reprimanded. "It's about protecting the boy. We need to get back to the mansion, now, before the rioters finish the job they started."

Rioters? Man, being a hermit does have its downsides... I didn't even know the mutant hate was kicking back into gear again.

Though that does explain the Molotov cocktails and spontaneous combustion of our dining room.

"Fine," I muttered. I wiped the excess bodily fluids off my person and was about to trot off like a good little underling when the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

I whipped around, saw Duncan all of two feet from me with a knife in his hands, and then-

"_Nooooo!_"

Every lamp on the side of the road exploded. I heard a yelp as Jean dropped from the sky, and felt a flash of burning-razor pain blast through me.

The silence was astounding.

No one moved for probably two minutes. I was the one to break that; I slowly back-stepped away from the guy with the knife until I Jean and Scott entered my line of sight.

Scott had his glasses off. And he was looking at me.

Huh. Brown eyes.

My mind skittered away from what exactly that meant, both for him and for me. Because if he didn't have his powers, and Jean didn't, and - nope, not Evan either, since he had reverted back to a shirtless, skinny little boy. I hardly dared to glance down at a puddle of water for fear of what I would see.

But I had to, you know?

As best I could make out in the darkness, I could see hazel eyes. Dishwater blond hair. Round, normal ears. Flat, dull teeth.

"It must have been the kid. Dorian." Scott turned and knelt next to the little boy, who was staring at his hands in amazement.

"My head doesn't hurt any more," he said in wonder. Shining, bright eyes looked at Jean, then fell to me. I grinned, licking my teeth, loving how it didn't hurt or make me bleed to do so.

His mom, on the other hand, was not nearly as pleased. She stomped over to him, grabbed him 'round one wrist, and yanked him away from us, fury fit to boiling just pouring off her.

"Now look what you've done," she almost sobbed. "He'll never be able to live a normal life! Never, not that everyone knows he's a mutant!" Tears leaked slowly out of her eyes, down her face, and she turned resoundingly in the opposite direction and began running as if we were going to chase her down and eat her.

"Aw," I whined. "I wanted to keep him."

Scott laughed, and Jean gave me a tolerant smile. She couldn't read my mind, so she didn't know how serious I was.

"Come on," Jean said. "We need to get back. They're going to need our help."

Rolling my eyes, I bent down to grab my watch, and something occurred to me. "Is this going to be permanent?" I asked curiously. Not that I would complain, but... it would kind of suck. Not having powers, I mean. The whole look-changing thing is free to die in a hole.

"I don't think so," Scott said. And not a moment after he said that, his eyes began to glow a damning red. He grunted, just barely managing to get the glasses on before the power became too much for him to hold and he let it loose. Seconds later, Jean also drifted upwards.

Me?

I am just a freak.

Because, suddenly nauseous, I knelt, heaving, and threw up what looked like several gallons' worth of blood. And then I promptly passed the hell out.

* * *

"Dorian Leech. He dissipated all the power in, I would say, about a quarter-mile radius? Electrical, mutant... probably others. Those were the most obvious."

The Professor nodded, looking for all the world like a power-blocking mutant was about as important as some gum stuck on the bottom of his shoe. Not that he could get gum on his shoes, I mean he doesn't walk... but you get the point.

I was sitting up in my bed in the hospital wing, painfully re-experiencing my first few mutant transformations. Namely, I got to watch as the color faded from my hair, my eyes turned completely silver, my teeth re-sharpened, and, let's not forget, _I vomited my entire bodily supply of blood into a bucket._

Gotta love that liquid oxygen bullshit.

"Do you think he's a threat?" I finished.

Xavier shook his head in the negative. "I think he's just a scared young man about to enter a world he won't ever understand."

Ah. Mutants, as we know them, are dangerous, power-wielding maniacs. We destroy, we burn, we break every law of natural science. We have fantastic powers, the likes of which few could even dream of.

And here is Dorian, whose only gift is to rid people of their powers. Hardly a threat. Hardly one of us. But never going to be one of them, either.

"Evan's back in the sewers again?" I asked, to fill the lull of silence. A distracted yes was my answer; before I could inquire as to what the hell was going through the Prof's head, he was booking it out. I fell back against my pillows, plucking my IV line with irritation.

So great. Another happy ending to another happy adventure in our fun little household. As per usual, I'm the one who ends up in the hospital, since my body hates me with a passion and can't just happily re-accept having a different physiology. Not. Fair.

I burrowed a little deeper under my covers. I had a moment to remember before I drifted into my non-sleeping rest state...

A human face...

I smiled.

* * *

**A/N:** :D

Review! FOUR LEFT! Hope you liked! It was fun to write. ^^ Peace til next time!


	49. Hell on Earth

There are usually some pretty good indicators that things are already going wrong before you've even started doing anything.

Today, that happened to be the sound of screaming.

My head was throbbing. It felt like someone had cracked it open and was letting a jackhammer play around with my gray matter. I groaned, long and low.

I wanted to ask for something to dull the pain, but my throat was bone dry. I cracked my eyes open, hissing in displeasure as florescent light stabbed twin spears of pain into my already-suffering brain.

First instinct: clutch head, curl into ball.

I could do neither.

I curled my hand into a fist, blinking fuzzily, trying to clear the spots from my vision. I could barely make out vague human-shaped faces, but they were still blobs; my lips drew back and I hissed, silver whip-cracking around my head.

Accompanying the incessant screaming came the sound of murmured voices. Damn! Why can't I freaking see anything?

Or move?

I tugged uselessly with my only arm, but it was strapped down tight. Same with my legs. And, as I quickly figured out, my head, too. My eyes widened, jerking back and forth. Breath heaved in and out of my lungs. My fingers curled into claws, digging into the thick strap around my wrist. I tried to rock my pelvis, but there was no room to move, no room to do anything but lay there and... and...

"_Let me go you motherfuckers!_" I bellowed.

I wanted to thrash around, or start tossing some wind blades. But I was tied down tightly, and that led me to panicking instead. Cool hands pressed on my forehead, my chest, my stump.

Then pain became my world.

I'm no stranger to pain. Hell, I'm still taking low-dose pain meds from the whole Apocalypse-cut-my-arm-off fiasco, you know? I was accustomed to walking around with a dull, burning ache in a shoulder that was only partly there.

But this-

-this made everything I'd experienced up until this point seem like _nothing_. Like feathers brushing across my skin.

I screamed. I screamed until I ran out of air, and then I screamed without it. My eyes rolled up into my head. I chomped down on my tongue as I began to seize, my muscles spasming, desperate to escape but unable to. I blacked out with the taste of blood in my throat.

The sting that brought me back was minuscule compared to what I'd just come out of, but I screamed again. Tears ran over already damp and sensitive skin.

"Now, now," a voice purred, "that's no way to introduce yourself, now is it?"

My eyes wouldn't focus correctly, so it took several agonizing, long seconds to pinpoint where the sound was coming from, and even longer to make it into an image my brain could actually process. But once it did, I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and forget everything.

Bolivar Trask stepped out from the shadows, his uniform crisp, hair graying at the temples, wrinkles framing eyes the color of stagnant mud. His lips were twisted in a mockery of a welcome grin as he looked down at me, strapped to his table and completely at his mercy.

I couldn't respond with so much as a whisper. My throat was torn ragged. I'm sure he planned it that way, too, asshole.

Trask gestured, a flick of his hand, but it made me flinch all the same. As the restraints around my upper body were released, his grin grew.

Shit.

"I understand you'll be unable to speak, so let me do it for you," he said briskly, walking around to the other side of my prison. I tried yanking at my legs, but it was a futile effort. I held out my good hand, forming a sharp blade around my fingers, flicking it at the leather around my waist.

Before the wind had left my person, pain t-boned me from my bad side. I screamed again, curling up on myself like a dry leaf. Sobs wracked my body.

It hurt so much...

"That was a warning." Trask had a growl deep in his throat, now, and snatched my wrist, holding it in an iron grip. I could hardly see straight, let alone muster the strength needed to fight through the confusion and terror. "Do that again, and I won't stop them."

Oh, fuckity fuck.

"Moving on." He released my wrist. I tucked it back to my chest, never taking my eyes off him, playing the wounded animal part to perfection. What can I say? It's a gift.

"I've brought you here," Trask said grandly, "as an insurance policy." Awesome. "And for some... tests." Oh, not so awesome.

I skinned my lips back from my teeth. By now, I'd come to the (correct) conclusion that my inducer was gone, so the fangs were in full view.

Trask had the audacity to laugh at me! I've scared tons of people with the hissing thing, but apparently not him. He's too good for that.

Was I terrified? Oh hell yes.

"You're probably just bursting with questions." He was moving as he talked. I couldn't keep an eye on him the entire circuit, and that frightened me. He stopped again, right behind me, far enough back that I couldn't twist around to see him. Panic coursed through me, and I started wheezing.

Asthma. Of course.

"Why did I take you? How? When can I go back... home?" He spat the last word. "Home to that nest of abominations?"

Despite knowing it was a terrible idea, despite fearing the pain that was to come, I lashed out, the silver shearing out in a blade as long as the room. I caught two of the blurry figures as they ducked out of the way; blood cascaded down to turn their scrubs maroon. Trask just stared at it, moving only slightly, not a hair out of place as he dodged the blade like he was fucking Batman.

This time, when I blacked out, no slap could bring me back to the land of the living.

* * *

It's been three days. Well, three days as best I can guess, because I'm pretty sure that their schedule of lights on/off isn't as rigid as 12/12.

Good thing I don't sleep. I don't think they were counting on that.

I had a room. It had a single, worn cot shoved awkwardly against a wall, and no blankets to speak of. The walls and floor were gray cinderblock, unassuming, with not a flaw to exploit. I had a bucket for my necessaries (gross) and no windows. My only link to the outside world was a door at least three inches thick, and locked.

I scratched my chest, feeling the puckered edges where the stitches forced inflamed flesh up. They'd done... something. I wasn't sure what. But I was still alive, so I dismissed it.

Survival mode. Just get through this day. Look for a way out, or to communicate with your team. Don't panic.

I angrily brushed tears from my cheeks. The thin pants I wore (my only clothing) offered me little warmth, and my breath misted in front of me, laced with silver. It was only about sixty in here, but the chill from the wall was seeping into my bones.

This went beyond the realm of not fair. I did nothing to deserve this. I had no choice in the matter when my dad decided to work with Trask, I had no choice when I started to show my mutations. So little of my life I control. It's maddening.

They broke routine. Instead of some gruel being pushed through a cat flap at the bottom of the door, the entire thing began to swing inward. I tensed, backing into the corner. Nowhere to hide. I hate this.

"Loki, Loki, Loki." Trask _again_. Can't he leave me alone?

I wanted to speak. I truly did. But fear closed my throat as I remembered the pain he could bring in a single instant. He was in control. I bared my teeth instead, eyes narrowed, crouched to spring.

I probably looked like a feral animal. But at this point, that's all he thought I was. Better to play the part.

"Come along." He gestured with one hand, beckoning me. Again, I had some serious wild animal vibes I was reading from him; it's why he didn't take much more than a step into my domain. Pretend to respect it to gain its trust.

I just referred to myself as it. Shit.

I uncurled myself, keeping my eyes glued to his face, my own creased in weariness and anger. He backed out, me following, into the empty hallway. I debated running for a split second.

The next thing I knew, I was on the ground, body locked in a ricktus as agony turned my blood to molten fire. I looked up at him, gasping.

"Do not even think about running off," Trask commanded. In his hand he brandished a small remote. My heart clenched. "You, of course, remember the sports drink that caused mutants so much pain, do you not? My scientists have isolated the compound responsible and implanted a source in you. Disobey, and I will cause you pain. Obey, and I will stay it."

This didn't feel like the pain I had from the drink, though. The drink made my senses sensitive and knocked me out for an hour. This... made me want to die.

I hate science.

Leaning heavily on the wall, I slowly forced myself to my feet. My legs were quaking with the effort. But I could tell more pain was in my future if I didn't haul ass to wherever he wanted to go.

"Much better," Trask said in a voice that almost passed for human. I settled for a tired glare, flinching as his hand brushed his pants pocket. Damn him, and damn me too!

We continued down the hall (all gray blocks, again; how lame) for about ten minutes before he stopped me. Pointing at the wooden - wooden? - door, I did as he asked, numbness beginning to creep out from the surgery site.

(Save the panic for later. Save the panic for later.)

It was a practice room. Against the far wall were mannequins, dressed up in police gear. Blue mats covered the floor. No equipment, though, I noticed as I turned in a slow circle. Too much worry about missing screws, I guess.

Trask was observing me keenly, like I was a choice piece of meat at the deli. I stared back at him defiantly. A small smirk twisted his lips as our eyes met.

"This exercise will be very simple," he said, stepping closer. I clamped down on the urge to step back, though I faltered and he saw me move. "We're going to see about whether a theory I have in regards to your... powers... is true." He lifted his brows. "If you do well, I'll answer one question of yours. Keep that in mind."

Channeling a statue, here, folks. I watched him for a spare moment, thinking, then nodded.

"Very good. Now." He turned towards the dummies. "When I say, destroy them."

I blanched, then shook my head. Still can't talk, damn it. Stupid subconscious.

_Wham!_

I sagged to my knees, tears streaming down my face. Iron bands wrapped around my lungs. I struggled to breathe through the pain the way I'd been taught, but to no avail. It was everywhere. I was drowning in it.

"Now!"

I pushed myself back to my feet, still shaking my head.

_Wham!_

Pain.

"Now!"

No.

_Wham!_

Pain.

I could take comfort in knowing the pain didn't last forever. The ritual became the building blocks of my sanity. Now, no, pain. Now, no, pain.

I was laid flat out on the floor. I couldn't breathe. I was choking on my own vomit - or maybe it was blood. I just wanted it to stop.

"Now."

I said nothing. Every bone in my body ached, like they'd been ground to powder then put back in me. Still horizontal, I aimed in what I thought was the general direction of the fake-people and let silver fizzle around my fingers. It sputtered out, half due to the semi-permanent chill and half due to the fact I was sure I was dying.

"Better. But you will improve." He appeared above my head, double in my eclectic vision. "And, as promised, one question."

He reached out and hauled me up by my hair. I whimpered, weakly reaching back to slap at his hand. Once he was sure I could stand on my own (which I wasn't), he shoved me to the door.

I couldn't speak. I was too afraid. Coward! I hissed in my mind. Fight back!

"Y-you said..." I whispered. "You said i-insurance. For w-what?"

Trask smirked, gripping my shoulder as he led me out of the practice room and back into the hall. He said nothing until I was back at the door to my cell. My name was etched into the metal at about eye level.

"Why, to make sure your mother does her job properly. I don't want her slacking off, after all."

He shoved me inside, faster than I could react to fight back.

* * *

Mom mentioned that, sometime during my insanity. How she was representing Trask in court. But for him to kidnap her son to make sure she got him out... sick. He was sick in the fucking head.

I'd lost track of the days. They were trying to mess with my sense of timing by giving me a 'day' in about four hours. I don't sleep, though, so it didn't really work. I hoped.

Trask came in every actual day. Never at the same time; sometimes before meals, sometimes after, sometimes in the middle of the night.

It was always the same. Walk to the practice room. Pain, so I didn't run. Kill the dummies. Normally I'd be fine with that; blowing off a little steam wasn't a bad thing, you know? But the way Trask demanded I do it... set me on edge.

As much as I didn't want to, though, my instincts became warped. No longer was I ready for anything; no, now I was prepared to avoid the pain. Not necessarily a bad thing, but it made me flinchy. Trask could see my weakness. That was the bad thing.

And one day, to my surprise, I discovered how far I was messed up by his sick training.

I was staring adamantly at the wall, arm wrapped around my midsection. I could feel my ribs, and my pants needed to be tied tightly so they didn't drop off my bony hips.

His lips curved. Before he'd spoken the word, he raised his hand; I jerked back, good hand lashing out. I decapitated every last one of the mannequins; the silver hit the wall and gouged out a chunk of stone, leaving dust in its wake.

"Good!" Trask laughed, clapping. "Very good!"

I wanted to cry. I didn't... I mean... There wasn't any moment of conscious control! It was just...

...a reflex.

_Hell._

* * *

Of course.

Reflexes. Like learning to duck when someone shouts. Except my reflex was to kill people when this one man threatens to hurt me.

I was lying on my cot, thoroughly miserable as I realized the extent of trouble I was in. I'd heard nothing from Xavier, nothing from my team in... however many days I'd been gone. The chances of them finding me were slimming with every passing moment.

I had all the pieces now. He'd told me everything - well, mostly - when I reacted and killed the fake people in the training room. How he'd gotten me, how he'd figured out my mom's relations. He explained in vivid detail how he had set one of his other pet mutants - brainwashed and terrified, I was half-way there - to grab me in the middle of the night, when I was sleeping.

Speaking of, I needed to do that soon. I was exhausted.

But back to the exciting part.

I won't ever sleep near a window again, probably for the rest of my life. It was that simple. Disable the alarm, give me a shot to keep me out for the trip, and go.

Just. Like. That.

Hell, he was so cheerful, he even mentioned how the judge was already basically in his pocket. That was why he wasn't currently rotting in a prison cell right about now. He'd been let out on reduced bail. Too bad I didn't know where I was.

I hit the wall with my fist until the skin split. Blood dripped out, fizzling on the wall, disintegrating the cinderblock and leaving a space about the size of my thumb open to the air.

My eyes widened.

Perfect.

* * *

Having a plan made it easier to accept that I was slowly losing the battle with my own powers. The routine went like this:

Stare at a wall. Get some food. Eventually Trask will show up, letting me out. He's stopped with the pain in the hall, now, since I shudder and choke every time I step out of my room. Go train. Discover how little control I have when he switches to snapping fingers and I'm helpless to do anything but aim. Moving targets, now. They're realistic.

Finish training. Ask a question. Get an answer. Go back to the cell.

And then, bite my thigh. It had to be a place that could be covered by the pants, so they wouldn't get suspicious. But damn, it hurt. The hole was under my cot; one of my rewards had been a sheet, which I put underneath immediately. Let them think I preferred to sleep underneath it. I don't care. I could fit up to my sternum, now. More every day.

I was dizzy all the time. My hair was falling out in clumps, matted and gray from grit. I could see every bone in my midsection, if I looked.

As much as I tried to put it off, I needed to sleep. I curled up on the floor, tucked into a corner. I couldn't move the cot, much as I wanted to; it was bolted to the ground. I stuck my knuckles in my mouth and dropped off, exhaustion winning out.

My nightmares held a fresh hell for me, where the pain never ended and seconds stretched into days. It wasn't a constant level I could adjust to; it was varying, and wretched, and I wanted it to stop!

I never seemed to stop screaming in this place. There might be times when I wasn't, but then it seemed like the echoes would follow me and reverberate around my little room until they were imprinted in my very skull. Always screaming.

But this time, it wasn't me.

The air tasted metallic. The tang of blood wasn't unfamiliar to me, since the training room reeked of it. (I'd gone from dummies to moving livestock. Hence the scent.) But now...

"Interesting," Trask observed. "You never mentioned your sleeping habits."

"You picked me up when I was asleep," I rasped. I couldn't cry. I physically could not. Someone had scooped my emotions and my heart right out of me. I was empty. "I'd figured you already knew."

"That you become a fighting machine when asleep? That you respond to me quicker than when awake, with no questions, and no moral compunctions?"

So said the bodies littering the ground. Nameless. Faceless.

Dead.

I tried to turn my hand upon myself, charge a blast and let my organs meet the open air, but nausea and pain stopped me. Another training exercise. He'd discouraged the notion of suicide, just like he'd discouraged the notion of running once I hit the hall.

"This is an interesting turn of events." Trask regarded me with half-lidded eyes. "So many possibilities..."

I could see them, if I thought about it. Trask having his own safety net: a personal mutant bodyguard to kill anything that got in his way. A permanent insurance policy against my family. And an able body to dissect, if he so chose.

I fell to my knees. No matter how much my rational mind screamed to run, hide, fight, do something, I just couldn't. I was a murderer. I deserved this. It was my punishment, my penance. And better me than someone else, right? Better me than Xavier, or Rogue, or Kurt.

I wanted to see them again. Just once. And Grace, too. Before I fell into the land of my nightmares, never to come out again. Because why wake me up, if I'm a perfect little soldier knocked out? My nightmares won't ever be any different than the living hell I've been through so far, and that's why my body's behavior won't be any different. I'd be stuck as his slave.

Pain.

I couldn't resist, at this point. My body was too frail. He'd mentioned, offhand, how he was turning down the pain every so often. I told him it didn't feel like it. He said it was because I was weak.

Truth.

I felt someone sling me over their shoulder. The bumps as they walked, slowly, out of the room full of bodies.

Shapes blurred. There were lights, and stands full of silver gleaming things. Then cold metal was touching my back, tight things were being strapped around my legs, my hips, my stomach. My arm. My head.

Trask's face, hovering over mine, murmured, "Good-bye, Loki."

I felt, from a thousand miles away, a needle prick into my arm. The tears finally came, then, streaming down my face. I choked back a sob. It was bad enough he could see me weeping. He didn't need to hear my anguish.

Iciness crept up my arm, toward my heart. Black crept around the edges of my vision.

I closed my eyes.

"...son?"

* * *

**A/N:** That was... disturbingly fun. Told you Trask would be around! ;) Also, cliffhanger. Also, I'll try and not leave you hanging for months and months... with a cliffhanger.

Thank you for all your attentions, I don't own X-Men Evolution and its affiliated characters, and please leave a review if you'd like! I'd appreciate it! Peace out!


	50. Stranger in a Strange Land

The spray of silver emanating from my fingertips hit the wooden training post with a satisfying hiss, carving out blocks the size of my fist and sending shavings everywhere. I whirled in a tight circle, dropping to the ground like my legs had been chopped out from under me before popping back up. The rubber ball that had been aiming at my head whistled past, marking the floor with blue dust.

I grinned, fangs on full display.

I was down in the DR, training. Why, you ask? Because it was fun. Dodge, whirl, slice. I was in complete control here. No one could bother me, mostly because no one could find me.

I lifted my arms above my head, stretching, and only narrowly missed being tagged by another powder-dusted ball. "Oops," I laughed to myself. While the sim was still running was absolutely no time to be distracted. I pointed my finger at the ball, following its path, and shot off a little bullet. The offending toy exploded with a loud _pop! _and I couldn't stop the smirk that painted itself on my face.

The exercise continued on, increasing the amount of ammo being launched at me, throwing targets into the air for me to destroy. Some of the airborne ones were capable of staying aloft for minutes and took a ton of thinking to work through, mostly because nothing stopped when those bad boys popped up. I still was shot at, and I still had the posts to worry about as well.

My breath was beginning to come in heaves as my throat constricted. No time for that now. No time to worry about the asthma, I had to take down the two flying targets before I got hit by one of the blue dusted balls, because as soon as I was marked the sim was over.

I was not ready for it to be over. Not yet.

I pulled my arms into my chest, flipping up into a mid-air horizontal roll to avoid three balls that I barely dodged. I could tell I'd been hit, though, even as I completed the roll and slashed out to separate six posts from their stands. I quickly patted the bit of dust on my stomach, but it wouldn't come off. I scowled. Points lost, right there. Damn.

I retreated back towards a metal wall, falling behind it as more missiles blasted past my head. I slumped on the far side, listening to the dull _whumps_ the small toys made as the contacted the smooth metal.

"Time to think," I muttered. "Two choppers, at least twenty posts. Enemy fire to watch out for. Wish I had my team with me." I grimaced, my hand latching on my right shoulder as pain blasted through my concentration and stole my coherency for a precious moment. When the episode passed, I gasped, panting harshly. I threaded my fingers through my hair, squeezing tightly. "Focus!" I hissed to myself.

I pushed myself to my feet, hands held aloft, and crept to the edge to regain my bearings. Tactical recon, baby, it's what you gotta do in times like these.

When I looked around the corner, what I expected was not what I found.

I expected a war zone. I expected to see wood shavings and pieces of expensive machinery and blue dust and unmoving balls, all framed by the silver gleam of the DR. Instead I found...

...a room.

My room.

I looked quizzically around, expecting someone to pop out and say, surprise! But I was alone. Alone in the room I had once called my own, before I was forcibly relocated to the mansion. There were stacks of books lying about on the tan carpet; my dresser was covered in old papers and receipts and the t.v. gathered dust on top of an ancient VCR player. The mirror was almost completely covered in pictures; one or two from every state and school I'd been in.

I staggered forward a step, hardly daring to believe what was happening.

It's a sim, I told myself fiercely. There are bound to be people who can plant images in your head, especially images you already have. Just tweak some details and they're a sitting duck, trapped in their own head until you put a bullet between their eyes and they're gone. I need to practice.

My legs gave out from under me and I almost collapsed on the bed. I tangled my hands in the soft silver and black blanket that had been torched when the mansion exploded, brushed a hand across the pillow that still had a dent from when I'd last slept on it. A hysterical laugh fought its way out of my mouth.

"What the fuck...?" I said, a painful smile distorting my words.

"I never did approve of the language," a familiar - dreaded - voice spoke from the doorway. "Though not much I could do, given I did the same thing." The tone was rueful; but it sounded patronizing nonetheless.

I rolled over the bed in an instant, charging a ball of wind in my right hand and fisting the left. My ears pressed against my head, flat in agitation, and I hissed. There wasn't any good cover unless I physically flipped the bed over, but if I needed I could be out the window in three seconds flat-

"Calm down," Dad said, a haunted look crossing his face. "Please, son. You have to calm down or-"

"Or what?" I snarled. "What can you do to me that you haven't done already?"

He winced. I took the opportunity to let the blast loose at the section of wall above his head. Plaster and dust rained down, creating a choking cloud he was flailing to escape. Around me, the room wavered like a mirage, like disturbed water in a still pool. I whipped to my feet and braced for impact as I shot head-first through the window, glass slicing my face and arms. I tucked into a roll, landing hard on my right shoulder, sending pain ripping through me once again.

I fought against it, clawing at the dead grass on the front lawn, forcing myself to my feet with a shove from my left hand, taking off at a dead sprint.

Again, the world around me shuddered. The sidewalk and rocks that crunched under my feet were replaced with metal; the mailboxes with wooden posts, and the clouds above with the DR's version of choppers. I sighed in relief, even as a rubber ball hit me square in the stomach.

A cloud of blue puffed up, but the pain that accompanied it was unexpected and jarring.

I dropped to my knees, clutching the agony that had become my abdomen, tears streaming down my face to mingle with the dust in the air. I clawed frantically at the ground with one hand, trying to stay curled around the injury, but after a moment it became clear I was stuck.

It was a blessing when I blacked out.

* * *

"...blood can't be transfused, we'll just have to hold him until he produces more..."

"_-unacceptable, do you hear me? I will not tolerate this, not when I am this close-_"

Pain. Pain everywhere, I couldn't escape, I knew my fate was to die here someday, all I wanted was to see daylight again-

Darkness.

* * *

"Where are you, Loki?"

I shifted in the leather seat, looking at my hands. Something was wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I swiped at my eyes, wishing I could sleep the night through, just for once. Just once.

Xavier was on the other side of the desk, his fingers steepled, staring at me intently. Papers were scattered about, and light flooded the room with warmth through the ornate window just behind him.

"Loki, I need you to tell me where you are."

"I'm right here," I said, confused. What the hell? Did he lose his eyesight sometime between now and the last time I saw him? Sheesh, old man. That's what glasses are for. Go get some.

"This is not what you think it is," Xavier said, pulling his hands apart to grab the control for his chair and power it up, rolling around the oak monstrosity and coming to a stop right in front of me. I ducked my head so I was hiding behind my bangs. I hiked my shoulders up.

"That's why this feels wrong," I whispered. My hands writhed in my lap, knotting and unknotting, picking at hangnails and running sensitive fingertips over old scars. "Why everything feels wrong."

"Where are you?"

"I don't know. Someplace awful." I looked up at him, my eyes filling with tears. "I've done awful things, Professor. I've killed people. Just let me die there, wherever I am. Please."

"No," he said forcefully, seizing my left hand. As he did so, feeling drained from the other, until I couldn't move it. I stomped down on my panic. "We will find you. We will heal you. All we need to know is where you are, Loki. Please. Describe the place and we will find it."

"Cinderblock walls," I mumbled. "A cot bolted to the ground, and a hole in the floor under the sheet from where I bled to escape... metal doors, but for the training room, that's wooden, I don't know why..."

"Good, good," Xavier said encouragingly. The numbness was creeping up to my bicep, now. It felt like dead weight on my shoulder, unexpected weight that I wanted off. Fear grabbed hold of me unexpectedly, choking me, choking the words I wanted to say. About the surgery, and the device with the chemical that made mutants hurt, and the training, oh god the training...

"We have a new mutant at the mansion," Xavier said. His words took on a hurried tone. I was losing control, he was losing control, Dad was losing control-

"Dreams, Loki, she communicated to Kitty through dreams and we found her. She can track you. Just go to sleep and we'll find you, we'll use your description to locate the place you're being held at! Loki!"

"_Get it off!_" I shrieked, yanking my hand back and clawing at my right shoulder, cloth giving way to skin as my nails tore at it. Skin gave way, light blue blood the color of the DR's hit powder pouring from the wounds; muscle shredded, and I hit bone in two more powerful swipes.

I was screaming. I didn't know when I stopped.

* * *

"Please, please, please," I sobbed. "Please, Dad, make it stop. Please, _make it stop! If you ever loved me, please!_"

Someone gathered me close and I clutched at them, burying my head in the available shirt as the person drew their hand up and down my spine. Everything hurt. My head, my gut, my shoulder. I couldn't take this anymore.

"I'm sorry," Dad whispered, and I knew it was him, because it had always been him, hadn't it? Haunting my dreams. In this new living nightmare, of course he would be here. "I'm sorry, son, I'm so sorry."

"Just make it stop," I whispered brokenly. "Make the dreams stop. Make them go away, Daddy, so I can sleep forever."

His hand ceased its comforting motions on my back, making me whimper, but he continued when he felt me tense under him. I could feel my body coiling, like a spring being wound too tight. Too much, it was all too much.

"Why did you do this to me?" I screamed into his chest. I couldn't grasp the control needed to summon my winds, otherwise he would have been kabob on the spot. "Why did you do this to your own son? Your flesh and blood?"

"I was afraid," Dad said simply, like it explained everything, but it didn't. It was no excuse. I could feel the energy building up within me, begging for an outlet, needing a target to release my anger onto. He was here; he made me miserable. Why not him, after all?

"I was afraid I would still love you, even though you went against everything I stood for," he murmured into my hair. "And I did. I couldn't stop. The thought of you out there, it was driving me mad, and when I found out I was a mutant as well..." I thought he grimaced, but it's hard to tell when I can't see anything but shirt. "It was petty revenge and I knew it. But you ruined me, Loki, and I was damn determined to ruin you too."

I didn't want to hear this. I really didn't want to hear this.

Razor-sharp winds exploded from my body as I howled my grief to the invisible sky. Dad was sliced to pieces in an instant; but seconds later he reappeared next to the bloody chunks of what had been him.

"_I hate you_!"

"I know," he said calmly. Like he was okay with it. Like it didn't matter what he had done, the pain he had caused me, the agony I went through as I couldn't sleep and now-

"You're a shit father!" I continued yelling. "You never should have kept me if you couldn't take care of me! You tortured me! You abused me! And_ I can't even hurt you because you're goddamned DEAD_!"

Dad had started crying at some point. The tears gave off their own soft glow in this place, wherever we were, surrounded by darkness only belayed by the brightness emanating from our skin.

I lashed out with a strike that held all of my fury, all of the pain I'd felt in the past couple of years living with the knowledge that my own father mentally tortured me whenever I tried to sleep, had disowned me when I needed him most, had threatened my sanity and well-being and now was here, present, for some unfathomable reason.

He didn't avoid the blade, just let it sail through him and take him to halves which toppled downwards, disappearing after a moment. I ripped at my hair with my one good hand, the other having been lost in a mountain somewhere in Tibet, along with the rest of my right arm.

"Do you see this?" I shrieked. I gripped my stump until my nails punctured through my shirt and sent drops of blood down into the void. "Do you see what I've been through, all because of you?"

Back again. Dad nodded, still crying.

"I hate you," I whispered. "I can't forgive you, not now. Not ever, even."

"I know," Dad said softly. He didn't tread a step closer than he was, for the winds I controlled were only leashed so long as my temper was as well. "I came to apologize. And to tell you that someday, when you've healed from these wounds I've given and led you to, I hope you might accept it."

"_I can't_!" I screamed. Everything was wrong, wrong, scrambled brains in a broken body, I couldn't forgive him for this, never, never, never...

"Loki!" a faint voice called. Through my tear-clouded vision I could barely make out the form of a girl, one I'd never seen before. She was running full-tilt at me, sweat plastering her hair to her head.

"Good bye, Loki," Dad said. I whirled back to him, intent on stalking over there and telling him that he wasn't about to leave until _I gave him __permission_ but a white aura was enveloping him, cradling him in softness I envied, because it was the gentle touch of death welcoming him back, a touch I desired more than anything right now.

I walked slowly toward that white cloud, reaching out a hand, fingertips millimeters from brushing the inviting chill of inevitable demise, when I was tackled from the side, head snapping around to see the mysterious girl responsible.

She pinned me quickly, but I put up no fight. Dad had apologized and was gone; I wanted to die to escape the pain that had become the definition of my existence.

"Loki, you have to follow me, right now," she said fiercely. "Xavier's practically right on top of you and if you don't come out soon, you're a goner."

I said nothing, just closed my eyes. A goner, huh? Sounds like a plan to me.

There was a moment of disorientation as she hauled me to my feet and then flipped me on her shoulders in a picture-perfect fireman's carry. She took off at a steady pace, me squinting off in the distance for her destination.

I was done fighting. Let what happened happen. Dad was gone, and he was sorry. Sorry for what he'd done.

The light at the other end was not the cool, comforting light of death I wanted. In fact, it burned, like too much sun focused on one spot. I shifted, but the girl didn't ease up on her iron grip. The darkness receded from that place, the place of light and life and pain.

She wasted no time with remarks about our current place; she stepped into the burning brightness with nary a flinch, while I started hollering my head off. It burned, like the kind of burn you get from touching a hot stove and forgetting to let go.

"One more jump-!" she panted.

I closed my eyes-

* * *

"...Bolivar Trask has been charged with kidnapping, several counts of abuse, over forty counts of voluntary manslaughter, along with a host of other minor charges that the judges all took into account when sentencing today. Trask will be spending the remainder of his life in the highest security prison in the States with no chance for parole..."

I smiled at that, though it was weak.

I had been gone for three months. In that time, Trask led a strike force with me and two other brain-washed mutants out into the city to pick off dissenters... meaning mutants.

I flexed my hand, my mind flickering back to the dream I had constructed to avoid the painful, painful reality. The training. Having both arms was nice, though I'm not sure how well it translated into my real-world actions.

At least I didn't remember killing anyone. But that didn't make the knowledge any easier a burden to bear.

I smoothed my fingers over the thick pad taped to my stomach. If not for Dad, I wouldn't have gotten shot, wouldn't have broadcasted enough pain and panic while conscious for the first time in months for Xavier to find my mental signal, wouldn't have been able to get the new girl - Moonstar - to fall into my dreams and get a general location on me.

I hated him. But I owed him my life, and then some.

At least now I knew he was really dead. Now, the little piece of him inside me was gone, dead, and the only nightmares that haunted me were the kind my own subconscious produced. No more outside influence. No more Dad.

No more Dad.

Tears dripped down my face and I turned my head to the side, hoping to mask them in the pillow, but the person who stroked my sweaty forehead didn't seem to mind that I was breaking down.

I wanted to jump, I wanted to flinch, and if my powers hadn't been out of whack I might have killed the person who touched me. Reflex.

"It's going to be alright, Loki," Xavier said.

He wouldn't lie to me. So I chose to believe him. He had saved me. Was he...?

I could feel the coolness slipping into my arm that meant another round of sedatives to sleep during the healing. I flicked my eyes back over to him and tried to lift the corners of my lips into a smile.

"Thank... you..." I breathed, and fell into sleep gladly.

I could rest. For the first time in years, I could rest again.

* * *

**A/N:** Hm. Took a couple of revisions, but I like it. The last mini-arc before we begin the final finale and wrap this story up, ladies and gents. Sorry for the wait; I've got class during the summer, which unfortunately has to take precedence.

I've told my readers about this before, but I'll pitch it again: movie-verse sequel? Yea or nay? Review, kind people, and let me know about the chapter and my idea! Thanks! Until we meet again, peace!


	51. It Begins

My list of things to work on was freaking enormous, and that just wasn't fair at all.

The chill of cool marble under my bare toes made me shiver, huddling deeper within the sweatshirt I'd chosen to wear today. Despite the fact it was only morning, the weather was well on its way towards high eighties, but was I going to heed that?

Well, if you could locate and identify every bone in your body, would you wear a t-shirt in public? Of course not. Last thing I need is someone thinking Xavier malnourishes his kids and get the younger ones taken away. So here I am, covered as much as can be, sitting in the sunlight, pondering what I need to do.

It's relatively the same as every other day, but Xavier says an important step in my recovery is establishing a predictable routine. After Trask's idea of treatment, I agreed, but that didn't make the task any more enviable.

As per usual: eat at least two full meals today. Three glasses of milk minimum. Meat and potatoes and vegetables and fruit are highly recommended. Spend two hours outside. Light exercise only, and no DR time without heavy supervision. Interact calmly and sociably with three members of the house my own age. Continue to work on de-training the attack reflex. Put no one in the medical wing. Report to Beast for physical therapy and contact Xavier if anything at all bad happens.

Some of them were guidelines, like the talking to people thing. Others were strict, like my diet. I'd been back a little over three weeks, but I could still find all my ribs without trouble. Of course, I'd learned the hard way that eating two full meals was a heavy order; after stuffing myself and promptly puking everywhere, I'd been more than a little wary.

I smirked. Trust Xavier to make mealtime into a damn trip.

Something was going well, though, and that was the un-brain-screwing Trask had done me for. People could finally come up from behind me and I wouldn't almost take their heads off, which was a big relief because all my old team members decided to ambush me with hugs the first day I was out of sickbay... that led to the 'no one in the medical wing' goal, let me just say. And it was an accident. And there were no permanent marks, so there.

Xavier always seemed to know when I was feeling most miserable. He swore up and down that he wasn't reading my mind, but I'm not sure I believe him. Regardless, the one and only time I contemplated ending this ridiculous charade and every time I was down after that, bam. He just rolled right up and got me to talking about the little things I was glad to have back, like social contact with my friends, watching typical bickering at mealtimes, and running water, even if it was cold. I just... owe him a lot, you know?

I tilted my face up towards the sun. That one, at least, I had no problems with. I didn't remember my time outside... well, I didn't remember it, let's leave it at that. So all I had were memories of being locked underground for ages and ages. And boy, when you've been underground do you ever get pale. I can't stay outside for my full two hours without getting crispy. I smoothed one hand over the fuzz on my scalp - I'd been lucky enough to get my head shaved after arriving, when I couldn't put up a fight - so at least I wasn't Patchy McWonderpants for the mansion's amusement.

Almost unwillingly, my hand fluttered down to the bandage patches I had on my stomach and chest. Yeah, chest too, now. Apparently while I was in surgery to fix up what Trask's idiot surgeons had done, Beast found the little device in my chest and had taken it out before anyone had the chance to say 'wait a sec, there'. For which I was exceedingly grateful. I know Beast and I didn't have the best of first meetings here at the mansion, but when he came up to me in sickbay and showed me the thing, I about burst into tears I was so happy. He was probably taking it apart as I enjoyed my morning, studying how they got it to resist my corrosive blood and what made it so effective in controlling me.

But how could I possibly care about that? Trask couldn't hurt me anymore. And he was going to be in jail, away from me, for the rest of his worthless life.

So there. I was healing, mentally and physically. I could lift heavier weights every day, run a little farther, tolerate another person next to me. And now, when I wanted, I slept.

The smile on my face grew bigger. Sleep. I could finally sleep again. The last remnant of Dad had fulfilled his purpose, conveyed his apologies and left, taking the artificial nightmares with him. Now I was only tormented by my own subconscious, which still left me with at least four hours a night. Even though I didn't need that much sleep, it was so nice a luxury to have, I wanted to enjoy it before the next big crisis hits.

Speaking of...

I could hear the soft taps on the steps that meant someone was walking. I took a calming breath, and managed to contain my fear into a slight jump as someone put their hand on my shoulder. I twisted about, eyes narrowed slightly, falling back into the mindset of assess the threat. But it was only Jean, who had a worried look on her face that softened into happiness as I didn't try to slice her to bits. That only happened the one time, and I was getting better every day.

"Loki, I'm glad I found you... we're going to get a debriefing pretty soon. You'd better come with me."

She wasn't telling me something.

I stood slowly, mindful of my broken body, and followed behind her at a sedate pace. We slipped in through the partially open door and made our way to the underground levels, where all the interesting stuff took place. I brushed the metallic walls with my hand, glad for their protection. This was a fine place, I thought proudly. Why couldn't I have a cool, useless power, like talking to objects? What use would Trask have had for me then?

Insurance. Always at the bottom was insurance. I shook my head as Jean hesitated in front of the final door.

"Now, Loki," she began in a low voice, "don't overreact. Please. We really need your help with this one, but if you freak out you'll be put on probation. Again." I nodded my consent.

I mean, come on. Was I tense and high-strung? Yes. Have I almost really hurt people since I got back? Yes. Okay, now that I think about it, a warning is sort of what I need at the moment.

She pushed open the door and I passed through into the surveillance room, the one we'd been using to track Apocalypse's movements. I let my gaze wander for a moment before my line of sight fell on the person currently strapped to a chair, surrounded by all the senior X-Men.

Time slowed to a sluggish crawl. My pupils dilated. My heartbeat shot through the roof. In my mind's eye, I could see that man, taunting me, beating me like I was nothing, and then- oh god-

Instinct is a bitch to work through. My brain shouted enemy, and my body whiplashed about, sending a glimmering blade of silver death headed straight for him. There were other enemies in the room, too, and I didn't have the power or strength to fight them. Tactical retreat was best. I let off a few more shots before something wrapped around my arm and locked it tight to my torso, leaving me unable to move and unable to fire. But I could still use my legs-

_Slap!_

Storm's hand connected with my face in a blow that sent me reeling. "Now is not the time, Tempest," she said sternly. And just like that, I broke the Trask mentality and sat down hard on my ass, blinking.

Mesmero stared at me from the chair, looking disbelieving despite the fact I was just as tied up as he was, now. I stared at him.

"Oh," I said softly. "Sorry." Ignoring the burn in my cheeks, I struggled to stand again. "Where were we?" I forced my tone to be light. If I acted okay, I would be okay. It was the mantra that had kept me sane for as long as I'd been home, because if I let everything that happened affect me, I wouldn't have hesitated in jumping off the roof as soon as I was out of the medical wing.

"Apocalypse has a plan to turn all the remaining humans on the planets into mutants by activating their dormant X-gene," Xavier explained as he pulled away from the marked man, who looked at the Professor like he'd eaten a lemon. "He is accomplishing this by use of technology found in the Sphinx and channeled through the pyramids. The power source is Apocalypse himself."

No one said anything for a second, so I decided to take the plunge by asking the obvious question. "Why is this a bad thing...?"

I expected a harsh glare and a reprimand. But instead I got a soft sigh. "You have no knowledge of the way the human body works," he said gently. "Suddenly activating dormant powers could kill many people, Loki."

"As if he should care," Mesmero cut in, his voice raspy. I glared at him. "Unlike you fools, he is touched by destiny. My Master is sorely lacking in his abilities, and I, the loyal servant, will remedy that."

Oh. Right. Rogue was the one who stole the mansion's collective powers and gave it to the nutjob. Only problem was, I don't sleep in my room much, so she missed out. Tough cookies for Apocalypse.

I tightened my hand into a fist. "Don't even start," I hissed, eyes flashing. "What's our next move?" I said instead to Storm, visibly fighting to keep myself in check. I had to be able to handle this. I had to. Think of it as a test, Loki; see how far you've come. Had you tried this the moment you were rescued, Mesmero would be dead and torn apart on the ground. Just keep your powers under control and everything will be fine.

"Charles is going to engage Apocalypse and attempt to reason with him. We were just heading for the jet now." She looked at him angrily. Looks like someone didn't agree with the plan, I guess.

"I seriously doubt he's going to want to talk to you, Professor," Scott tried. "Please, just take some of us with you. I can grab Kurt and Kitty and we'll be there in case something goes wrong."

"Thank you, Scott." Xavier was touched. I rolled my eyes. "But it will not be necessary. Ororo and I will take the Blackbird to Egypt and see what can be done. Beast will monitor me from Cerebro and Logan will watch the New Mutants."

Said man groaned as he fished in his pants pocket for a shiny silver flask. Taking a swig, he stalked out of the conference room, muttering under his breath.

"They're my team, Professor," I said loudly, grabbing his attention. "If anything, I should go watch them."

"Bobby has been made team leader in your absence," Xavier said bluntly. I couldn't hide the hurt that flashed on my face. "You're being re-instated as second in command of Scott's team. I need you with him."

Confusion erased the hurt, but I still didn't feel good. I walked over to him, silently asking to be let out of my restraint, and he complied.

"Please don't do this," I whispered as he keyed in the code. My arm loosened away from my torso and I rolled my wrist a few times before kneeling in front of him and gripping his armrest. "Please."

"I must. I must use diplomacy, or everything I have worked so hard for in my lifetime will have been for naught."

I stood, bracing myself against the nearest solid object, which happened to be a table. I couldn't look at him. Here he was, basically going off to his death, and what could I do? Twitch, be startled, and take a limb off? Hold him back? Beg?

"Be safe," I said quietly, avoiding eye contact as he motored around me, giving soft orders in his wake. I looked up through tear-filled eyes to see his profile as he exited the ready room, aiming for the flight deck. I growled loudly, slamming a fist into the table and leaving a small dent.

"Loki," Scott said calmly. "It's alright. Storm will keep him safe, okay? Just calm down."

"Calm down?" I hissed, eyes flashing. "Apocalypse killed Magneto with barely any effort or interest involved. If he wants, Xavier is dead. Miss Ororo too. And there's nothing we can do about it, because we're stuck back here, waiting to see how everything goes wrong."

"Xavier's planning on using Cerebro to boost his powers," Jean's voice cut in. I glanced over Scott's shoulder to find the woman standing behind us, Kurt, Rogue, and Kitty flanking her. I bit back a hiss of surprise, grabbing a handful of pant leg to avoid the Reflex. "If we can get in Cerebro's chamber before Beast locks us out, we'll at least be able to keep in contact with him."

"Let's go," I said lowly. Scott fell into point, me on his right, Jean at his left. We bolted out of the surveillance room and into the hall, making three successive right turns before we stopped at the entrance to Xavier's biggest secret.

Cerebro was an invention of his and Magneto's. It boosts and amplifies telekinetic abilities. The room itself was like what I imagined the inside of a futuristic golf ball would be: metal plating lining the dome that curved around and under us, a bank of computers waiting at the end of a short walkway. Beast was already set up when we tromped in behind him.

"Hank," Xavier's voice filtered through, static and murky. "Keep the team out of Cerebro's room."

"Too late for that," he muttered, eyeballing us over his shoulder. "The gang's here and waiting, Professor. Now or never."

We had to wait another agonizing ten minutes for the Blackbird to make a landing in front of the Sphinx. When Xavier finally put the helmet on, though, an image flared before us.

Apocalypse.

"Oh, man, look at him," Kurt moaned.

It was like someone had fused Apocalypse with a computer and then took a silver Sharpie to him. Metallic light glinted off his silver skin, broken only by strange markings and his clothing. He floated to a stop in front of us - well, in front of Xavier - and spoke.

"Charles Xavier," his voice rumbled, though his lips didn't move. "Why have you come?"

"To talk. Nothing more. I want to know why you are doing this."

"I am an instrument of destiny, Charles Xavier. I am playing my part, as must we all." For a moment, his chilling gaze shifted, and I was frozen to the spot, sinking down into a dark, vast hole of nothing, fear freezing in my gut. But his focus shifted elsewhere and I let out a shaking breath, drawing a reassuring pat from Jean.

"This is not what humanity needs," Xavier tried.

"Humans have never known what, exactly, they needed. I am their provider, whether they wish it so or not."

"You have no right to force them into this situation," Xavier snapped. He was losing his temper. Billions of lives were at stake here; I would have too. "If I must, I will stop you."

"No." Apocalypse actually spoke this, serene and confident. "If I am to be stopped, it will not be by you."

Cerebro's feed crackled and cut out. We were treated to a few precious seconds of audio - Storm screaming, thunder booming, and then a flash of white that blinded us all before communications cut off completely. We stared at the empty space, disbelieving. Jean broke the silence first, muffling a sob into her arm. Scott wrapped his arm around her waist, burying his head into her hair.

"No," I said flatly. "No." Not when I had just come back to normalcy. Not the man I loved like a father, like all of us loved as a father. "We're going after them. We're going to _take him back._" _In the jet or in a body bag._

I clenched my hand into a fist so hard I punctured skin. Blood sizzled on the metal deck, acrid smoke filtering up to my nose, making it burn.

"Logan's pinging," Beast said quietly after my proclamation. "We've got company. Back to the ready room, now!"

Back and forth, back and forth. I've done this song and dance already, I thought as we jogged down the corridor, following the burning path of Jean's hair as it bounced up and down. Just keep it together. Don't panic, don't freak out. We need to plan. Going in without a plan is a death sentence.

Again inside the surveillance room, Mesmero mercifully gone (probably taken back to the brig, if we even have one), we were treated to Logan shouting furiously at who I believed to be Fury. Yes, he was turning towards us, I could see the eyepatch. Well, Logan was obviously pissed; I wonder if he knew about Xavier?

The t.v.s were on, tuned in to some high-tech frequencies only we had access to. While I was... gone, they'd planted cameras around the domes - there were three, I think - so we could have round the clock eyes on them in case something went down.

Something was going down, alright.

Sentinals stormed across the screens, wreaking havoc. Before I could take any more details in, pain hammered me from my bad side; I staggered and fell to the floor, clenching my jaw in order not to scream. Scott knelt next to me, one hand on my shoulder. _Oh god, Trask and the Sentinal from the city and pain-_

"It's Storm!" Kitty breathed. "And look, there's - Magneto?"

"Everyone who went missing," Kurt said, wonder coloring his tones. "Professor! And-" His voice cut off abruptly in a choke as Rogue took up the commentary.

"Her," she growled. "Mystique."

Fantastic. I thought she was in pieces at the bottom of a ravine, but no such luck. I fought back to my feet, shrugging Scott off, still gasping, to see Kurt holding back sobs as tears made tracks through his dark fur.

"I knew it wouldn't be this easy," Logan snarled, turning to Fury as his muscles tensed. Ready for battle. I glared at the man as well. If all he came to do was show us the Sentinals, then fine. Mission accomplished. I could testify to that.

"They're armed with specialized weapons that can tear down the barriers around the pyramids," Fury said, cutting through the sounds of destruction now emanating from the screens. "Once that's done, we need you to divide into teams and take them out. You're the only ones who can do this."

Logan wanted to refuse. I wanted to shove his words right back up his pompous ass. But Scott knew better than I did, and signaled a huddle.

"We'll split up into four teams, one for each dome and one for the sphinx. Kitty, go get the Brotherhood. Now." She nodded, saluted, and phased through the floor. "Kurt, go find Spyke." A bamf and he was gone. "Jean, go get any other neutral mutants you know that live in Bayville and tell them to meet us here ASAP." I think he glanced around at the remains of his group, but I can't be sure.

"We'll make it through this," he said confidently. "Trust me."

* * *

It must be nice to kiss ass to the government, I contemplated as I looked out the window at the glittering water below. If I strained my head far enough to the side, I could see another helicopter-jet powering across the ocean.

Yeah, apparently our mission was important enough that all we needed to do was ask and hey, free stuff! We had a combat-ready helicopter-jet armed to the teeth, and our uniforms had been upgraded to be able to resist a lot of the collateral damage we normally take.

You know. The whole being-thrown-into-walls thing we have going on. At least the armored padding would soften that particular blow.

My mike crackled. I turned to the interior of my vehicle where Scott, Logan, Kurt, Rogue, and Fury were sitting.

"Listen up," Fury rasped. "You need to take Apocalypse down. I'm sorry for doing this to you, but if you guys fail, then we're officially screwed."

Logan had taken it upon himself to fill Fury in on the details. Weirdly enough, the man hadn't seemed too pleased to be in on this particular loop. I smirked. "No prob, boss," I said cheerfully. "Maybe your power will be something cool, eh?"

I received at minimum four flat glares (I couldn't tell with Scott) and I chuckled into the open mike. "Can't take a joke before battle, alright, I gotcha."

Act calm, be calm. Be collected. Be smart. Don't do anything stupid. Unless it's a teammate, don't restrain the Reflex. Take Apocalypse down, or the whole world burns.

Water changed to sand, golden brown. Minutes later, there was a jarring thud as the helicopter-jet touched down in front of the Sphinx.

The setting sun framed the obelisk nicely. Dusk was beginning to fall; I could see stars as well as glimmers of light from the horizon. I formed up behind Scott and Logan as Rogue disappeared from my line of sight.

Not in the line of sight, not an enemy, I couldn't care about her. Too much at risk.

I felt the anxiety, now, despite my flippant attitude. It sat like a weight in my stomach, made my bum shoulder burn with dull fire.

Before us, stairs leading down into darkness stretched like the gaping maw of some merciless beast. I glanced back at Kurt, who had replaced his usually goofy demeanor with something far too serious for his character. Scott was stiffly standing ahead of me, uniform already gathering dust as the evening wind howled.

Without looking back, we started forward.

Here we go.

* * *

**A/N:** Here we go, indeed. We've reached the finale. Apocalypse is making his move, and Loki is pulling the pieces of himself back together again to fight him. How will everything turn out? You're going to have to wait and see, I suppose.

Spinning plates for sequel purposes, don't mind me... *whistles*

Two more to go, the finale and an epilogue. And then Winds of Change is done. Until next time, my friends, leave me your thoughts and peace!


	52. The End

**A/N:** Last episodic chapter. It's been a real journey, guys. I'm sad to see it end, but that's just how these things go. Epilogue will be up soon. Read and enjoy.

* * *

I was trying really, really hard not to freak out.

Everything I knew about Apocalypse and myself was drumming in my head. He was the most powerful mutant in existence, commanded technology from completely different times that we knew nothing about, had cut off my arm, and lived in a secret chamber underneath the Egyptian Sphinx.

Me? I was touched in the head, maimed, and now had the hairline trigger Reflex to add to my list of things to keep under control. And if I lost control here, where it was just the four of us, with Apocalypse breathing down our necks, we were so royally fucked I couldn't stop the breath from whistling in and out of my lungs as my panic rose.

"Calm down, Loki," Scott said quietly. Or he attempted to. It didn't matter how softly you talked in this awful place, it picked up noise and amplified it and we were giving our positions away just by _existing_-_  
_

A hand clamped down on my good shoulder and I could not stop myself as I whirled around with a fist aimed straight for the face of whoever had touched me. Unfortunately for me it was Wolverine, who grabbed my wrist and proceeded to flip me onto my back before I could blink.

The wind knocked out of me, I was sufficiently cockeyed enough to gape silently at Logan, who just glared.

"We don't have time for games," he snarled. "The teams only have so much firepower before one of the pyramid guardians knocks them flat." He sniffed, lip lifting enough for what dim light the chamber did have to reflect off his large canines. I wheezed out a 'yes, sir' and gingerly picked myself up, patting the dust off my uniform.

"Mystique is in here," Wolverine rumbled, not sparing a glance at Kurt, who looked the other way. "I can't smell her, but I know she's in here."

He had barely finished speaking before he was suddenly moving.

What was chasing him?

About a person's worth of snakes.

I lifted my hand and fired off a successive volley of wind, succeeding in nipping off a few tails, and also succeeding in diverting about half of them right towards me. Don't scream, I chanted as I backpedaled furiously, don't scream!

The hissing was like nails on a chalkboard. Having only one hand, I couldn't clutch at my ears like I desperately wanted to, so I continued firing at the beasts, but they were many bodies and only one mind. They dodged as effortlessly and as gracefully as water flowing around a protruding rock in a stream.

There were stairs somewhere behind me, how many steps I couldn't remember, and if I couldn't remember I was going to die. One of the frontrunners gathered itself into a coil and sprang-

_Fuck!_

-and I was across the room and the snakes were now a slavering wolf, but bigger than I'd ever seen, and Kurt was yelling in my ear about taking one of the hallways and trying to find Apocalypse. The canine advanced on us with ground-eating strides, its dusty black fur rippling with the muscles that lurked beneath its skin. Red eyes, I noted dully as I took off at a dead sprint. It had red eyes.

I sincerely hoped I had chosen a path that involved less Mystique and more anything else. When the hell did she get that freaking talent? I wondered. Far as I knew, she could only stay as one thing, and now she can turn into a whole bunch of snakes? And half of those snakes turned into a wolf?

I am screwed.

The branch I'd chosen was dark enough that I had to squint to see if I was going to face-plant into one of the pillars, or walls. I slowed my frantic run to a jog and then a walk, finally stopping to spin in a confused circle.

I touched my ear where the comm was hidden. "Guys?" I whispered. "I don't know where I am."

"Join the club," Scott muttered. "I went after Wolverine but I lost him halfway down the passage."

"Snakes," Wolverine pinged. "I hate snakes."

That left everyone but Kurt. Kurt, who I'd left in the opening chamber with a slavering wolf - who also was his mother, now that I think about it, and an apt description of her that was - charging down his sorry blue ass.

"Shit." I ran a hand through my hair, kicking a pile of sand. "He told me to go on and try for Apocalypse. Last I saw him a wolf was breathing down his neck."

"He'll be fine," Wolverine said, followed by a sharp burst of static. "I'm getting long-range communications from our other teams."

"Is Jean okay?" Scott asked instantly.

"She's surviving, and that goes for just about everyone." I swore angrily. "The guardians of the pyramids - Storm, Magneto, Chuck - they've all been super-powered by Apocalypse, just like Mystique. It's no wonder I couldn't smell her."

"Alright," I said, "alright. I'll keep heading my way. Buzz me if something big happens."

"Agreed. Cyclops out."

"Wolverine out."

"Tempest out. Good luck."

I sighed heavily, dropping into a squat for thinking purposes. Yes, I do take some time to plan every now and then.

So it seems pretty simple. Locate Apocalypse without him locating me. Set my comm to mark my location, which would then show up on the handy-dandy device that everyone had on them. (Looked like a cell phone, but could do so much more. Jealous, anyone?) Wait for the team to convene, and then take the bastard out.

Yeah. Simple.

I stood, reaching out blindly for the nearest wall, not bothering to conceal the flinch as my hands made contact with cool, engraved stone. Naturally, being the genius I am, I'd forgotten a damn flashlight. Typical. And the stupid locators didn't have enough battery to make them worth attempting to use.

Slowly, I reached out with my foot and toed the ground in front of me.

No traps. No falling rocks. No spike pit or javelins shooting from the walls or blades dropping from on high. So I put my foot down and did it again. And again. And again.

By the fifth step, I was feeling pretty confident. By the ninth, I wasn't bothering to check if my path held traps, I was just walking.

And of course, on my fourteenth step, I feel something heavy on my neck and next thing I know, I'm being dragged through a wall.

Kitty's intangibility - her ghosting - is not a comfortable sensation. I've had several of her possessions lodged in my person, all traumatic experiences, and only once has she ever snuck up on me: she pulled me through the floor and into the women's bathroom, resulting in a month's grounding and a nice, even coating of mayo on her sheets.

Well, this time I was going through a wall, and the sensation of going through ancient rock was unlike anything else. I didn't dare breathe, but I couldn't not thrash and claw at the thing with its iron grip on my neck.

The powerful force finally exited the wall - thank goodness for that - and shoved me roughly to the floor, where I lay for a moment, disoriented and feeling sick.

I swallowed the bile climbing up my throat and rolled onto my stomach, blinking back tears. That's when I caught a glimpse of blue.

Kurt!

Forcing myself to my wobbly as hell feet, I staggered over to him and knelt above the prone body, pressing two fingers to his throat. The steady pulse against my fingertips made me sag in relief.

I touched my ear and was rewarded with enough static to make a radio jealous and an electronic shriek that robbed me of my hearing in that ear for several precious seconds as I fumbled to get it out. Shit, I thought, looking at the flesh-colored piece. The phasing must've shorted the damn thing.

"You have found what you seek. What will you do now?"

I rocketed to my feet, blindly swinging around and releasing a momentum-powered blade that glimmered with its own, inexplicable, light. Apocalypse simply watched it approach before letting it slide through him, much as he had only moments before to get me through the wall, and carve a gash into the stone behind him.

"Ah, hell," I muttered. "Um. Please don't kill me for that."

He just stared at me. It wasn't the stare that had me feeling like I was falling down a bottomless pit, just one of... hell, I don't even know. His expression was too hard to read, too flat. He could be pissed, he could be happiest he's ever been, and I wouldn't know the difference.

"What will you do now?" he repeated. "Will you kill me?"

I gaped. "Kill you?" I sputtered. Finally having a chance to take in my surroundings, I couldn't help the bitter laughter that bubbled up from within. "Look around you," I said, gesturing to the gleaming command center-like bank of - computers? - he stood at, and the weird diamond ship that hovered in the center of the room, covered in glowing marks much like the mutant was himself. "Look at what you have, and look at what I have, and then ask me that again."

He said nothing, one hand on the terminal and the other held loose at his side. What was he going to do? Whose power would he use next?

My tension was stiffening my muscles, making my breath come fast and short. I wanted to leap at him, tear off one of his arms, make him hurt the way I hurt those long weeks of recovery. But I couldn't. I wasn't strong enough.

I dropped to my knees, head bowed.

I wasn't strong enough to fight him, and I didn't have any way of contacting anyone, a subtle glance back at Kurt revealing what I had feared; the destruction of his own comm along with the breaking of my own.

"Is what I am doing so wrong?"

Through my lashes, I peeked up at him. Apocalypse had tucked his hands behind his back, gaze sharpening on me, stripping me to the bone, judging me. I gritted my teeth.

"It's a death sentence for millions of people," I hissed, fangs bared. My eyes flashed in the dim light, silver gleaming like the metal of his skin, his ship. "And you are no judge, no jury."

"Yet here you bow before me."

"I stood against you once," I bit out. My shoulder - the bum one - burned as the memory brought back the pain. I reached up and gripped it tightly, kneading the sore muscle. "Look where that got me."

"You are waiting for your team to find you," Apocalypse corrected. "You have grown into your powers, as all of the children have." Children? Oh, that's just insulting. "And you are all children to me," he said, voice reprimanding. "I am older than you could ever comprehend."

I chomped down on my tongue to prevent from a cutting reply. He has the power here, I reminded myself. He is in control. He could kill me in seconds, and all I can do is fire blades of wind he'll just phase through, or bend with Wanda's stolen abilities.

"What will you do if no one finds you here, little one?" I glared up at him. Don't patronize me, I sent in his direction. Much as you think I am, I am not a child. Not since you did this to me.

"Then I'll fight you," I said. "Because someone has to, and it might as well be me."

Xavier once told me that you should never confuse justice and vengeance. I remember the lecture; I remember the night, how I was just adjusting to not needing to sleep, how he'd wheeled into a dining room to find me on a windowsill, staring at the stars, full of rage and hatred towards the man that sired me.

The lesson beat in my head as I shakily stood, holding my hand out in a ready position. Loose, the voice of Miss Ororo echoed, loose like a music conductor. Don't be so stiff.

"That will not be necessary," Apocalypse said, and it held the weight of a decree in its words. I was slammed into the ground, back into my bowing position, invisible iron bars wrapping around my wrist and torso and ankles, keeping me still and humble.

"You're not a god," I snarled. "You're not anything like that! You're a mutant, just like me, born in a time where differences like that made you powerful, and you're arrogant enough to believe what they said thousands of years later!" I was shouting at the end, tears burning behind my lids.

Now he was angry. He lifted one hand, an unnecessary show of strength, and my body unwillingly followed until I was floating, dangling helplessly six inches off the floor, unable to move a muscle to whip out a blast and distract him. He brought me closer until I was so close I could see the lines around his eyes, the way his lips pinched as he fought to keep his temper.

"God or no," he vowed, "I will accomplish this, my final goal." And as I still hovered there, unable to move, he placed his hands on the grey computer-like apparatus and held on for dear life.

_BOOM!_

"Don't move, Apocalypse!" Scott shouted. A cherry-red blast of optic energy exploded in front of Apocalypse's face, spitting sparks and pieces of machinery. A bit of shrapnel grazed my face, sending blood dripping down my cheek. "Put him down and step away!"

"Sorry we're late to the party," Wolverine said sarcastically, picking his way through the remains of an ancient stone wall, flicking dust off his shoulders. His blades popped out with a whisper of metal on cloth. "I'd listen to the kid, if I were you."

The only warning I received was seeing the corner of Apocalypse's mouth turn up. Next thing I know, I'm flying towards the mutant and his hand is pressing onto my face, the rough pads of his fingers scratching against my skin.

Weakness washed through me, barely noticeable at first but only growing stronger as he continued the contact. My eyelids drooped shut as breathing became a chore.

Of course. Rogue was the one to give him our powers, why not take Rogue's as well? And now he had mine. My powers, my abilities, the great offensive advantage that I had was now his.

The one thing that was mine and mine only was... not.

Movement. He was getting me out of the way, tossing me behind the diamond ship as he raised one hand and let fire three blades of deadly silver wind. Their size alone made me jealous; I had to work to produce something three quarters of that size and to do three at the same time?

Asshole.

I was struggling to keep my eyes open, searching vainly for the fight now vigorously taking place. My vision was blurry, but I could make out flashes of silver and red, and even clouds of purple smoke. Kurt must've finally decided to wake up.

I wanted to fight. I wanted to get up, to move, do something, but my traitorous body denied me the right. My fingers twitched as I lay on the ground, teeth clenched. Almost there. I'm almost there.

This was it. The final fight. The retribution I'd been seeking, the closure I desperately needed for this chapter of my life. And I couldn't do a damn thing.

It really wasn't fair, I thought hazily. As bitchy as it sounds, life here was hardest for me. No one else was ever hurt the way I was; no one else was faced with my choices. With my father. With Magneto. With Apocalypse.

Tears slipped down my face, stinging in the cut that still sluggishly leaked blood down my cheek. My life was never fair.

But no mutants life is fair.

I pulled on the determination that had gotten me through two rounds of physical therapy with Beast, the endless patience of working with the New Mutants, the rage that continued me through my stint of high school after we'd been exposed. I focused on those emotions, and I pushed myself shakily to my feet, knees threatening to give out any minute.

I reached out my hand, placing it on the diamond ship for balance that eluded me. It was warm, I thought dully. Warm and humming.

One step. Two steps. Every movement was a victory that kept me moving forward, towards the battle that was raging.

I don't believe in a god, but it was sure a miracle nothing hit me, because everyone's powers were flying all over the freaking place, and I could see that our side was beginning to bend under the sheer power of Apocalypse's strikes. With his plethora of abilities, between blasting my team out of formation and being able to avoid most of their return fire, there was no way they were going to win.

Scott spotted me. I'm sure I looked quite the sight; pale, dirt streaking my sweaty face, bleeding, and looking about ready to drop. But I was back out front again, ready to fight.

I lifted my hand off the ship and gathered what remained of my energy into my palm.

I wouldn't be able to make it sharp. But hopefully it would stun him long enough to let someone grab the advantage.

Eyes narrowed, I took aim and fired.

Apocalypse turned sharply, meeting my gaze, and I saw with horror how he lifted his hands, glowing red with Wanda's powers. I saw my blade bend, felt the telekinetic yank around my waist-

-Rogue was here, forehead furrowed, and a concussive wave of something was leaving her body, Scott's optic beam flickered and died, Kurt's fur was replaced with pale skin-

-and I was tumbling into the diamond ship and a much heavier body was on top of me, unmoving, crushing me. Spots danced in front of my eyes.

_He pulled me out of the way!_

A high-pitched whine. "No!" I shouted silently. "No!" There was no air in my lungs. Whatever Rogue had done, Apocalypse was down for the count.

But the door was closing. I could see the horrified faces of my friends, my family, the people I loved. They were running for me, but not fast enough, never fast enough, it was like they were trying to sprint through neck-deep mud.

"Loki!" Scott screamed. "Just hang on-"

Too late. The door shut with a hiss of pressurized air just as Apocalypse's body began to age and crumble to dust and dirt. Rogue took the kid's power, I think. Leech's. And since so much of Apocalypse's power was spent keeping him alive, with that gone, so was he. Back to the grave, as he should have stayed.

And here I am.

Trapped in the ship, and something is obviously going to happen. They wouldn't have been as terrified as they were if all the plan had been was to lock him inside. No, it's going somewhere. Or some-when. Or maybe it would just disappear into nothingness.

I wrapped my arm around my waist, pulling my legs in closer.

My name is Loki. When I was sixteen, I found out I was a mutant. I went through a lot of bad shit to get from there to where I was now. I made friends, lost friends, and made enemies. Oh, we all made enemies. But it was worth it, to grow up feeling loved and protected. I've changed.

I wish Jean was here, so she could relay my final thoughts to my family.

"I love you," I mouthed to the door. "All of you. Thank you."

I was crying. I was going to die, I was going to die before I'd turned nineteen, I was never going to marry Grace and babysit Scott and Jean's kids and maybe even have a brat of my own one day. Never would I go to another sports game or tease the New Mutants or enjoy the sun on my face. I'd never get to do any of that again.

I don't want to die. I don't deserve to die.

I-


	53. Epilogue: Old Thoughts, New Beginnings

_Exactly One Year Later_

They put his grave underneath a tree.

Somehow, I think he would have found that amusing.

I stare at it thoughtfully, hands in my pockets. Then again, he found a lot of things amusing. He kind of had to, otherwise he would have gone completely bonkers.

Me? Well, I had to be the strong one. The leader. Fearless Scott, always looking out for his team, and yet Loki was the one who held people's attention with his language and surly attitude and unrelenting stubbornness. I gave orders that he followed but if he didn't make it a trip... well.

I kneel in the grass, staring at his headstone through a red-tinted world. I refuse to cry. I did all of my crying at the funeral last year, when we buried an empty casket beneath the tree he liked to sit with or climb on or whatever.

Like I said. Scott the Strong, Scott the Brave. Scott, the Man Who Can't Be Moved. Or, according to Loki, Scott with the Stick Perpetually Wedged Up His Ass.

I snort. "Always were fond of that saying," I whisper. "I'll come by again soon."

I stand, wiping subtly under my glasses, and head back for the mansion. There was a DR session due to start and I couldn't be late.

* * *

I never told a soul about what happened that day. The day we split up and vanished around the world to fight for the safety of humanity. The day Apocalypse made his move and we rebuffed him.

The day Loki died.

Well, we think he died. No one was really sure of the ship's destination, and since we'd only ever used it the once - instantaneous travel, the day Loki lost his arm - we couldn't say when, or if at all, it would ever show up again.

Anyways.

My powers were on the fritz again, that day. I was fighting, but my grasp on the psychic energy that I was so familiar with was degrading rapidly.

And then I heard him.

I heard him, in my head, how he realized that his death was rapidly approaching and how he began to panic, to recall things he wouldn't ever be able to do or feel again. His last words still ring, crystal clear, in my ears.

_I don't want to die. I don't deserve to die. I-_

Nothingness.

I set my brush down, one hand still threaded through my bright red hair. Thinking about him was useless. For all the power I sometimes possess, I couldn't bring him back.

* * *

There is so much wrong with me and my life that I sometimes forget the world goes on around me.

He got wrapped up in himself, too, sometimes. But somehow - always - he found the strength to get past it. Me? Not so much.

It was that woman again. Today, when all I wanted to do was sit and think about how things used to be, she shows up to beg my forgiveness. Well, she can kiss my ass. I've had enough of her and her lies.

I tell her as much. She looks at me sideways and says, "I'm sorry." I ask her what she was sorry for, and she says nothing, just looks at me with a stare a thousand miles away. Like she remembers what happened in the Sphinx, how she attacked Kurt and the rest of them, tried to kill him.

And then she flies away.

One year. A whole year since we lost him, and a whole year since anyone's felt anything resembling alright. We keep turning corners, expecting him to be sitting in the rec room, curled up on the couch, or perched on a ledge or sill, reading or gazing silently out the window.

We didn't speak much. Both of us kept to ourselves, mostly. But I remember a few good times. Comforting times. And they get me through the days when no one speaks at the mansion for the depression in the air.

And they say I have emotional issues.

* * *

It's quiet in my office.

I stare out the window, hands clasped in my lap. Outside, I see Scott kneeling down by the stone marker under the oak tree Loki used to frequent. To my recent memory, it's been about a year since he passed away.

I glance at the desk calendar, nodding as my suspicions are confirmed. Yes. One year to the day.

It is not a day I remember fondly, for many reasons, the least of all being the loss of one of my students. Of one of my family.

I took him in as a teenager, full of rage and pain and thirst for revenge. Looking back, it is that spark of defiance, that emotion, that must have attracted Magneto to him. Emotion to fuel his powers.

I watched him grow from a sullen boy to a wounded man. It almost seemed uncanny, his propensity for injury; when they were superficial, it was almost humorous.

And then he lost his arm. An entire limb, gone. And the boyhood shattered into bitterness, into manhood. Not so long after that, the kidnapping.

To say the least, the household was rather tense the entirety of his forced relocation.

I smile. My only solace today was the three weeks we gave him before we sent him off to die. Before I foolishly got myself caught and 'woke up' so to speak only to find every last member of my X-Men in tears, describing the horror of Apocalypse's demise.

There is much yet to accomplish today. I will keep Loki in my thoughts, but even he would understand how busy I am. I turn from the window and grab a pen. It's time to work.

* * *

My brother is being stupid, so I wrestle the chaotic energy within and throw him against the wall.

Pietro does not find this amusing, but he and I do not agree on this matter, and I doubt we ever will. He doesn't understand.

I never spoke with him about what my father did to me. How the memories of my past began to fracture and overlay with something more horrible than I'd ever imagined. And when I finally broke through the block, when my powers erased every instance of the fakeness from my mind, I said nothing.

I was a good actress, after all.

I remember today. I remember last year, today, hearing about the death of the man I pondered affection for. He and I, we shared the pain of betrayal from those who mattered most to us.

So I would go visit his grave. Pietro could go hang for all I care.

Xavier knew better than to stop me as I broke his gates again. I did that a lot, in the beginning. He finally just gave me the access codes and told me to control my temper. I told him to leave me alone.

Here I am, then. Staring at the rock placed above the hole in the ground where an empty box had been buried. Closure for the family. Not for me. Never for me.

"I wish I had known you better," I say, tracing his name in the granite. I leave behind scorch marks, but they'll come off with a wash or ten. "I wish I hadn't been so messed up for so long."

My respects having been paid, I stand, wipe the blades of grass from my knees, and depart.

* * *

I should have told him yes.

I suppose that'll always be my biggest regret. That he died, not knowing how much I did want to marry him. That I let him die without telling him how much I loved him.

Although it's not really fair, is it? He was my knight in shining armor, my warrior. In the stories I love so much, the warriors always come home. Maybe a little bloody, maybe beaten, but they always come home.

Real life isn't a story, though.

I'm not at his grave, much as I wish I was. No, I'm in a different place, out of New York, away from the East Coast entirely. Mom had to move, her job's contract was up and the new position was in a different state. I wanted to stay, but Loki was gone. With no reason and no home, I couldn't wait for him to magically reappear.

He didn't show up for two more months. And then they wouldn't let me see him, because he was too dangerous to be around people who couldn't protect themselves. Like I needed another reminder of my humanity, thank you very much.

I trace my hand across the wall, catching on the glow-in-the-dark stars and posters and slips of paper tacked in. My room is vibrant, but it's so empty.

And now he's dead and gone and I'm still in love with him. And I can't do anything about it.

I curl into my pillow for the third time since I woke up this morning and cry.

* * *

_Somewhere... else_

Blood and pain and destruction and chaos around me. Weakness in my body that won't go away, that burning drive that I have to do this, I have to succeed in this one thing. And then-

_beep beep beep beep beep_

My eyes snapped open.

It felt disturbingly like someone had taken an ice pick and jammed it into my brain. I reached up and ran my hands through my hair, unsnarling at least three knots before I could make it through without trouble.

Forcing myself to sit up and turn the damn alarm off, I sighed heavily and stood, padding my way silently over to the bathroom, hoping my roommate wasn't already up and using the shower. For once, I thought hazily, I might make it to class on time. Although the killer headache was a bit of a turn-off.

I knocked softly. There was no response, but I waited an extra minute just in case. When there was no noise or movement from within, I dared to enter the borderlands between my space and the roomie's.

Another sigh as I reached for the faucet and turned the water on, cupping my hands under the stream and dousing my face in warm bliss.

Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all, I wondered. The hot water's finally working again.

With one hand I reached towards the light as I snagged my towel with the other. It was only then that I glanced up at the mirror.

The headache rebounded, twice as intense. Images flooded my mind's eye, faces, names, but most of all pain.

I screamed. My muscles turned to jelly and I dropped like a stone. I barely felt my head clip the counter on the way down, one thing sticking in my mind as unconsciousness devoured me whole.

My face was _wrong. _Hazel eyes where there should be silver. A fullness to my cheeks instead of angular bones. Dull teeth where there should be fangs. Round ears where there should be pointed. Blond hair where there should be white.

And an arm where there should be nothing.

_I'm... alive?_

* * *

**A/N:** Well. Here we are. It's been a long, fun road to get to this last chapter, and I'm excited that even though this story is finished, Loki's still not down for the count.

So yes, there will be a sequel. It's going to be in the movie category, not the cartoon X-Men: Evolution. Why? Because that's where he ended up. Funny, that.

I'd just like to thank you all for the support and kind thoughts you left me. I know original characters aren't a fan favorite, but getting the emails after posting a chapter always brightened my day. I owe it to you guys for encouraging me to keep on writing.

Until next time, peace.


End file.
